Piano Lessons
by wtvoc
Summary: Continuation of the original story by Bella-of-the-Ball, with permission, of course! AH. As a special birthday gift, one of Bella's students sets her up with free piano lessons, with a hidden agenda. temporarily on hiatus; thank you for your patience!
1. Chapter 1 by BellaoftheBall

**Bella**

I rolled over and hit the alarm clock for the last possible time. It was Friday morning. I wasn't a fan of Friday mornings because Friday mornings meant staff meetings. And staff meetings were synonymous to the following words and phrases: boring, getting up before dawn, and boring.

On a day when most people can go to work and just look forward to the weekend, this day of the week was always mixed with a little bit of dread for me. Casual Friday couldn't be thoroughly enjoyed because of the lengthened work day that always consisted of that morning staff meeting.

I guess I shouldn't be complaining. I loved everything else about my job. And there were certainly aspects about these meetings that made them more tolerable.

"Hey, Swan! I saved you a seat." I turned my head as I entered the large cafeteria where the janitors had set up dozens of chairs all facing the makeshift stage at the South end of the room, and saw Emmett McCarty, the P.E. teacher, waving me over to the back row.

I walked through the line of chairs with my tote bag over my shoulder, a cup of coffee in my hand, and a white paper bag. "Good morning, Emmett. I brought us some breakfast." I greeted him with a smile before I sat downwaving the paper bag in the air which Emmett gratefully took out of my hand.

"Ah, donuts!" Emmett opened the bag and took a deep whiff. "The breakfast of champions," he joked. "Thanks, Bella." He proceeded to take a long john out before handing the bag back to me.

"No problem."

"Ooh…donuts?" A musical voice filtered through the air, and I recognized who was speaking immediately.

I turned around and greeted Esme with a hug as she sat down next to me. "Hi Esme! Yes, have one!" I handed her the bag, and she carefully removed a glazed donut with an appreciative smile.

"Thank you dear."

Esme Cullen, the choir teacher, was one of my favorite people at Forks Middle School. She was maybe ten years older than me, but she was as much of a mother figure as she was a friend. I still remembered how she got me through my first two years of teaching by letting me come to her with tears in my eyes and listening to me rant about how I constantly felt like I had no idea what I was doing. If anyone was meant to be a teacher, it was Esme.

The staff meeting commenced not too long after we sat down. Emmett kept us entertained by making jokes throughout the principal's usual droning. This must have been why Emmett always saved us seats in the back row, so no one else could hear our snickers and side conversations.

"Hey, I didn't miss anything, did I?" A hushed whisper asked from behind me.

I turned around and saw Jasper, looking frenzied and guilty that he had arrived late. I smiled in amusement "Just more standardized testing stuff. Nothing we haven't all heard before," I whispered to him. I suppressed a laugh as I watched him hastily tuck in his white collared shirt. Even on casual Fridays, Jasper was hardly ever seen at school without a tie and slacks. Maybe it was a history teacher thing. "Did you sleep through your alarm again, Jasper?" I was teasing. I'm sure I could guess exactly why he was so late, and it wasn't because of his alarm.

"Uh…not exactly," Jasper admitted with a sheepish grin. Emmett didn't miss a beat in turning around to extend his fist behind him and Jasper reluctantly punched his knuckles.

Emmett chuckled as he turned his body to face front again.

I, however, wasn't done with my conversation. "So, Alice is back in town then?" I was excited to see my best friend who had to fly out of town on business meetings to meet with important representatives about her fashion line fairly regularly.

Jasper nodded. "Yeah, she surprised me by flying in late last night…" he trailed off while trying to hide the humongous smile that formed on his face with his hand.

"No wonder you look so tired." I winked before turning back around, not intending to embarrass him any further.

How a fashion designer and an 8th grade history teacher ended up together was thanks, in much part, to me. Two years ago, when I decided I was sick of attending the annual staff holiday party alone, I insisted that Alice come with me to keep me company and act as my guest. Lo and behold, sparks flew between the two of them as soon as she walked in the room, and they've been inseparable ever since.

Incidentally, last year I brought Rosalie, my other best friend, in an attempt to help her out of her post-break up funk, and she met Emmett.

Now, into my fifth year of teaching, I was completely out of single friends, so it looked like I was back to my pattern of Bella Swan and no guest. Not that I minded too much. I'd grown even closer to Emmett and Jasper because of it, and it's been nice to have friends at work other than Esme to get me through these long days.

After what seemed like forever the bell finally rang to signify that students had five minutes to get to their first class of the day. This also meant that we had five minutes to rush to our classrooms and no time to delay the inevitable- middle school students and Friday. If I ever were to question my job it would be on a Friday. I sometimes think their parents must give them 10 energy drinks before they walk out the door in the morning. If only they could have that energy when it really mattered.

"Hey, Rosie tells me you girls have got a crazy night planned for tonight," Emmett nudged me in the arm, wiggling his eyebrows up and down.

I rolled my eyes. My friend Angela was getting married next week and tonight was her bachelorette party. I was her maid of honor, but I willingly stepped aside when Rosalie and Alice volunteered to help me plan the night of debauchery. "For the last time, you cannot tag along," I laughed.

"Oh, it looks like you've got quite a weekend ahead of you," Esme smiled as she walked with me into the crowded hallway of bustling students. "We're still on for tomorrow night though, aren't we?" She raised an eyebrow, as if daring me to back out of our plans.

I sighed in defeat. "Yes, Esme. Although, I hate that you're going through all of this trouble just for me."

"But it's your birthday! I'll come over to your room after school and we can discuss it further, okay?" Esme waved goodbye as she retreated down the hallway towards her classroom.

"Alright!" I called out, returning the wave, and walked briskly up the stairs to my first class.

The rest of the day went pretty smoothly. I handed out quizzes in two of my classes, accompanied with the expected grumbling and minor complaints, but nothing I couldn't handle. Some of my students in one of my 7th grade classes found out that my birthday was over the weekend, so they led everyone in a rendition of "Happy Birthday" during fourth period that surely would have made Esme cringe on the spot. I wasn't sure how they found out it was my birthday, but I had a feeling Emmett had something to do with it. Jasper and Esme knew better than to relay that piece of information on to my students, at the risk of embarrassing me.

In typical Bella form, my face was red as a tomato, but I took it all in good stride. I was flattered that my students even cared enough to sing for me.

Finally, the last bell rang for the day, and as students were scrambling to leave, I was wiping off the dry erase board when I heard a small voice, belonging to an adolescent male from behind me.

"Ms. Swan?"

"Yes?" I was still facing the board, not yet realizing which student was addressing me.

"Happy Birthday."

I turned around to see Masen Cullen, a wide-eyed 7th grader with untidy reddish-brown hair holding out a small package wrapped in striped paper and garnished with a silver bow. I smiled. "Masen…" I took a few steps closer to hug him with one arm as I accepted the package with my free hand. "Thank you… how did you know it was my birthday?"

"Aunt Esme told me." Masen was grinning from ear to ear as he hopped up to sit on the flat surface of the desk across from me.

"Ah…" I leaned back to lean against my large desk as I shook the present next to my ear. "Did she tell you to buy me a present as well or was that your idea?"

"It was mine," Masen admitted. "She told me that you hate presents, but I said that I wanted to get you one anyway. And then she said to make sure it would be something you'd really enjoy and also something that you couldn't return, so I thought of the perfect thing."

Something I couldn't return. I almost laughed at how well Esme knew how horrible I was at accepting gifts. Of course, she knew that I could never upset Masen by telling him I wouldn't accept a gift from him.

"She told me that you might try to give it back to me because it's too expensive, and if you did, I was supposed to give you this face…" He looked up at me with his expressive brown eyes and pouted his lip. He looked like a wounded animal. Damn, Esme was good. He quickly replaced his expression with a smile. "It used to work a lot better when I was younger, but she said that would do the trick. But I'm pretty sure you're going to like your present, Ms. Swan. Open it!"

I tore at the corners of the wrapped box, apprehensive about what would be inside. Too expensive? I hated the thought of someone spending so much money on me, and I really hoped the gift wouldn't turn out to be as extravagant as I was afraid of. The box was about the size of a checkbook, but thicker. When I got past the wrapping paper, I was just as clueless as I looked at the white unmarked box in my hands.

_Oh geez, I really hope it's not jewelry_, I thought to myself, fearfully envisioning a diamond necklace, knowing Esme and her expensive taste. She may live on a teacher's salary, but she was also married to an incredibly rich, not to mention insanely handsome, doctor.

Taking a deep breath, I pulled back the top of the box. To my surprise, there was nothing in the box except an envelope. _God, it's worse than I thought. It's money._ My lips formed a thin line as I slid my finger under the flap and tore the envelope open. A thick piece of gold cardstock sat inside and I pulled it out.

"Did I win a trip to Willy Wonka's chocolate factory?" I joked. I looked up at Masen and his face was still full of eager anticipation.

"Read it," Masen instructed, rolling his eyes at me.

I squinted my eyes to make sense of the fancy black script that scrawled across the paper. "This certificate hereby entitles Ms. Bella Swan to 10 free piano lessons." I had tears forming in my eyes before I could even look up at Masen. "You're right, this is the perfect gift. How did you know?"

"When I had you last year in English class, remember that one day when you made us write in our notebooks? You asked us 'If you could learn to do anything in the world that you didn't already know how to do, what would it be?' My answer was that I'd learn how to be the fastest man in the world and jump from the tallest buildings, do you remember?"

I smiled as I reminisced over an even smaller version of Masen. He was the first person to volunteer his answer, and he spoke with so much passion and conviction, how was I to forget? I nodded to respond to Masen's question, still unsure of where he was going with the story, so I waited for him to continue.

"And then, you told us how when you were little your mom used to play that one song for you on her old record player. Some classical song—"

"Claire de Lune," I interrupted, suddenly remembering. My tears were almost choking me as the memories started to flood my mind.

"And you said that if you could learn to do anything in the world, you would learn how to play the piano, because that was your favorite song and you wanted to know how to play it to remember your mom because you missed her so much with her living so far away. I remember that you said you imagined that it would be better than just hearing it because you would know it not with just your ears when you listen to it, but also with your hands, your head, and your heart."

I turned my head to hastily wipe the wetness away from my face. "I thought 7th graders weren't supposed to remember the things their teachers say," I managed to tease through the overwhelming emotions encompassing me.

"Well, I was in 6th grade," Masen reminded me.

I laughed. "Excuse me. 6th graders."

A soft knock on the door broke the short silence.

"I'm not interrupting anything, am I?" Esme poked her head in, giving me a knowing glance.

I held up the gold certificate. "This was a great idea, Esme."

Esme held up her hands in front of her as she made her way into my classroom. "Hey, it was all Masen's idea. I just helped make a few phone calls."

"Are you sure you don't want me to help pay for this though? It's such a lovely gift, but 10 lessons is a lot of money—"

"Masen…" Esme interrupted me to apparently cue Masen to give me his wounded puppy dog look. I suppose what he showed me before was just a preview, because this new look was absolutely heart-wrenching.

"Okay, okay!" I threw up my hands to surrender.

Masen smiled in triumph.

"Bella, I meant to ask you… My nephew just moved into town, and he is just about your age. Do you mind if he comes to the dinner tomorrow? I figured it would be a great chance for him to meet some new people." Esme looked at me with a hopeful smile.

"Oh. Sure Esme, of course." I sighed, approaching what I was going to say next not wanting Esme to think that I wasn't grateful. "But, Esme. You really don't have to do all of this for me, just for my birthday."

"Nonsense," Esme waved her hand to dismiss me.

"Can I come?" Masen asked, pulling out his bottom lip.

Apparently this look didn't work on Esme because she shook her head adamantly. "No honey, I think you're going to have to sit this one out. This party's for grown-ups only."

"But Edward's going to be there!" Masen argued.

I bit my lip to hide my smile.

"Yes, and contrary to popular belief, Edward _is_ a grown-up." Esme rolled her eyes, smiling at me. "Anyway Bella, I've made reservations for eight, with everyone who can come, so I guess we'll just meet at the restaurant around 6 o'clock? Of course, Angela and Ben won't be there because of their wedding."

I nodded to confirm my agreement to these plans.

"Hey, Ms. Swan, when are _you_ going to get married?" Masen said, cocking his eyebrow at me.

I laughed. "I guess whenever you plan to pop the question, Masen," I responded, teasingly, knowing at his age I could have easily embarrassed any other 12 year old, but I knew Masen would take it well.

Masen blushed slightly, but responded nonchalantly. "Everyone knows I'm going out with Cari Searman."

"Oh sorry, I guess I'm not up to date with all of the current gossip," I apologized with a smile still lingering on my face.

He shrugged his shoulders good-naturedly to accept my apology. "Well, wait till you meet my brother, Edward. Maybe you can marry _him_, but a lot of girls like him. Aunt Esme was saying--"

"Okay, Masen! We need to get going! You're mom's going to be wondering why I haven't brought you home from school yet." Esme seemed uncharacteristically flustered as she pushed Masen out of the classroom. Turning quickly to me, she spoke in a hushed tone. "Sorry about that, Bella. Masen has it in his head that you and Edward are perfect for each other, but don't listen to a word he says. You know how boys can be."

I gave her a confused look. "Well, I don't know many 12 year old boys who run around playing matchmaker…"

Esme giggled, another uncharacteristic gesture. "I'll see you tomorrow night, Bella. Don't worry about Edward, he's perfectly harmless. And don't think that what Masen said is the reason I invited Edward to your dinner. Like I said, he's new to town and needs to meet new people. Have fun tonight with the bachelorette party!" And with that, she rushed out of my classroom before I could get a word in. I heard Masen faintly say goodbye from the hallway, and she was gone and out of sight.

I was put off by Esme's sudden erratic behavior, and I wondered just what it was that she said to Masen that caused her to cut him off mid-sentence. I looked at my watch, and realized that I didn't have time to dwell on enigmatic responses when I had a bachelorette party to get ready for.

I sighed as I gathered my things and dropped them into my totebag. Making sure to grab my purse and my keys, I walked to the door, turned off the lights, and made my way down the empty hallway.

Tonight was going to be fun. I had to get this whole thing with Esme off my mind and I knew that what Rosalie and Alice had planned would definitely do the trick.


	2. Chapter 2 by BellaoftheBall

**Bella**

I grabbed my keys and my cell phone to throw into my small black clutch when I felt my phone vibrate in my hand.

I flipped open the top, placing it securely between the left side of my chin and my collarbone as I slung my tan corduroy jacket over my right arm in haste. I bent down sideways to pick up a pair of modest black pumps sitting by the doorway with my left hand and proceeded to hop around as I pulled on one shoe at a time.

"Hi Alice. Are you here?" My voice was slightly breathless from the small aerobic workout securing my shoes onto my feet entailed.

"Bella! We just pulled up! Get your cute little butt downstairs!" Loud chatter filled the background preceding the sound of Alice hanging up the phone, not waiting for my response. Obviously she wasn't making a request but a command. I grabbed the small gift bag on the counter, wrapping the handles around my wrist, before heading out with everything else I was carrying on me.

Securing my apartment door behind me, I double-checked the lock before running down the hall carpeted stairway, as much as I could manage so in heels. I stopped right before I got to the stairwell to place my clutch between my legs draped my jacket over my shoulders. I knew that Alice would kill me if I ruined my black silk top with the rain that was undoubtedly falling outside.

With both hands, I grabbed onto the rail that was bolted to the wall as I attempted to descend the stairs with lightning speed. Unfortunately, my feet decided to act on their own accord as they slipped down the steps before the rest of my body, swooping up as I landed smack dab on my rear in a painful sprawl up and down the staircase. Luckily my hands still kept a steady grip on the railing, otherwise I would have slid all the way to the tile floor waiting for me at the bottom of the steps. Then I would have most likely had to spend the rest of the night in the emergency room, effectively ruining the bachelorette party I was supposed to throw for my friend.

When I finally reached the bottom safe and sound, I saw my reflection through the glass entryway a few feet in front of me. The headlights of the vehicle that had come to pick me up were shining through the raindrops and my transparent reflection. Pulling the few stray strands of hair into place and adjusting the hem of my shirt over my grey slacks, I braced myself for the rain outside and pushed open the heavy door.

I gasped out loud. "I should have known," I muttered under my breath.

Under the light sprinkling of rain, the lampposts illuminated the dark streets which already looked forlorn so early in the evening. The moon was out but only partially visible through the clouds. The sky was overcast and tinted navy blue.

All of this made the scene in the middle of the street that much more shocking.

Spanning at least 30 feet and parked awkwardly in right hand lane of the two-way street in front of my apartment building was a stark white 2008 H2 limousine. Music pumped through the speakers as if straight out of a downtown nightclub. A chauffer wearing a dark suit was standing next to the passenger door with both hands clasped in front of him, and proceeded to open the door as I approached the limousine.

The bass beats from inside the expansive vehicle blared and echoed through the rain on my dark street. An echo of blue and white lights swirled into the outside air, creating dancing prisms of light against the parked cars and reflections of the street signs, indicating that there must be some sort of disco ball rotating inside the limo.

I blushed as I noticed a couple walking their dog across the street were now standing and gaping at me as I made my way to the car door. I looked up and saw people blatantly staring at me from the apartment building across the street, leaning into their windows and shielding their eyes to better see me getting into the ostentatious car. I felt like I was at my high school prom all over again. I hated my high school prom.

I ducked my head, waving and muttering a quick "thank you" to the chauffeur as I climbed inside. Alice, Angela and Rosalie were waiting inside, each sprawled out across the smooth leather seats on either end of the aisle.

"Bella!" They collectively yelled though I could barely hear them over the blasting speakers. I made my way through the aisle to meet them, slightly hunched and disoriented from the strobe light that was indeed hanging from the roof over the center of the limo next to the sunroof. I attempted to swerve my torso around to avoid hitting it, but cringed when the globe clunked against the side of my head as I walked past it.

"Ow," I muttered as I rubbed the sore spot with my hand. I shook my head as the pain eased away and smiled at Angela. "Happy Bachelorette Party, Ang." I reached over to hug Angela as she cleared a spot between Alice and her for me to sit down.

"Thank you," Angela laughed. "Last weekend of freedom—Bella, please don't let everyone get me too hammered."

"Now, what kind of maid of honor would I be if I didn't get you good and drunk?!" I laughed at the look of sudden apprehension on Angela's face. "Don't worry, I'll take care of you," I assured with a smile. "Knowing Alice and Rosalie, you'll be drunk right up until your wedding next Saturday if they had their way. Just promise me that you'll return the favor when or if I ever get married."

Angela rolled her eyes. "Like you have anything to worry about, getting a man to marry you, but it's a deal," she said smiling at me and gave me a hug.

"What are you talking about?" Alice interrupted. I turned my attention to Alice and Rosalie who were both pouring champagne out of a dark green bottle into glass flutes they took from the side panels of the limo, which proceeded to spill everywhere but inside the glasses with the bumpy ride.

"I asked Bella to keep me safe from all the drinking you're going to make me do that will surely induce vomiting and me losing my memory," Angela explained as she took the two glasses of champagne Rosalie offered her and gave one to me.

Alice and Rosalie rolled their eyes.

"Please, Bella. At the end of tonight, you're not even going to remember your own name," Rosalie warned, taking a sip of her drink. "You and Angela both. We didn't rent this limo so you could go home sober."

"Yeah, speaking of which…" I looked at Alice. "Went a little overboard with the ride, don't you think?" I asked taking a sip from my own glass and nodding my head towards the disco ball which was starting to give me a case of vertigo. I knew I should have expected as much when Alice convinced me that hiring a chauffeur was the safest route in terms of not having to worry about a designated driver tonight, but I couldn't help but feel as if I owed her however much this get-up must have cost.

"Relax, grandma. I called in a favor, so this was totally free." She held up her hand to my mouth when she caught me open it in protest. "Why not go out in style? This is Angela's day, after all. Besides, this limo isn't so bad. Just be glad I didn't get the one with the spinning rims," she said giggling at me. "Now, will you please promise that you'll be fun tonight, and take off that god-awful jacket?"

I sighed in protest. She was right. I was always the party pooper, wasn't I? "I promise I'll try," I said in earnest. I realized she was still giving me an expectant look and I rolled my eyes as I shrugged out of my coat.

Alice grimaced. "We're going downtown, Bella, not to a funeral."

I looked down at my attire. "What? What else am I supposed to wear?" I was a little offended. I knew my sense in dress wasn't as keen as my fashion designer best friend's, but I thought I looked nice in my black silk shirt, grey pants, and black shoes…Okay, so maybe I did look like I was going to a funeral. But she had picked out this shirt on one of our many shopping excursions so I thought it would be safe.

Alice gave me a knowing smile as she brought to attention the large shopping bag in front of the partition behind the chauffeur. I groaned but reluctantly got up with her, the flute of champagne still in my hand, sloshing around when I plopped down beside the bag and next to Alice. I looked up at Angela and finally noticed that she looked a little more glammed up than I would have expected of her in a bright pink halter dress that complimented her light olive skin and dark hair. "She got to you, too?" I asked.

Angela gave me a sheepish smile from across the car. "Yeah. Apparently turtlenecks went out in 1995," she shrugged as she tugged at the hem of her knee length dress. "Ben just about flipped out when Rosalie sent him a picture of me with my camera phone." She blushed. "It was cute."

"Cute?" Rosalie scoffed. "He sent you one of the dirtiest text messages I've ever read. And that's saying something. Didn't know Ben had it in him, Ang. I knew you were marrying him for something," she said as she winked through another swig of champagne.

"Here." Alice threw a piece of fabric at me.

I unfolded it on my lap and frowned. "This is black. I thought you told me I looked like I was going to a funeral, and you give me another black shirt?" I held up the skimpy piece of cloth. It confounded me; I wasn't quite sure how it was supposed to go on.

"Yes, I know it's black. But the difference between the two shirts is the one you have on is ugly and looks like something you found at a nursing home, while _this one_ is pretty and shiny and a Chanel!" Alice snatched the shirt from my hands as I was struggling with it, pushing it aside before she practically ripped my boring black blouse from pulling it over my head, exposing me in my beige bra. I knew that reminding her that she had picked out the shirt wouldn't do any good. It was probably bought in 1995 with Angela's turtleneck.

Alice wrinkled her face in disgust. "Ew." She shook her head. "Bella, Bella, Bella. God, you'd think after all these years of being my friend you would actually learn how to dress yourself." She sighed. "Well, you can't wear a bra with that shirt anyway; it's backless, so take it off." She rolled her eyes at my reluctance to strip in the middle of a moving vehicle. "What, are you embarrassed or something? Come on! We're almost at the restaurant. God forbid you go out in public with nothing but that hideous bra on."

I knew better than to disobey Alice when she was in her tiny dictator mode, so I reached behind me in an awkward attempt to unhook my bra, while simultaneously weaving my arms through the short sleeves of the sparkly shirt.

I finally had it on and I looked up at the girls. "Well?"

The catcalls commenced. I felt my face turn beet red and I wished I had a mirror at that moment. I looked up at the ceiling and saw a slightly distorted image of myself, but I couldn't help but notice how pleased I was at my reflection. The shirt fit like it was made for me, snug around my waist, but draped in all of the right places across my torso. The neck was cut straight across to make the reveal of my back that much more dramatic. I definitely wouldn't have gotten away with wearing a bra. One skinny strap was sewn from one end to the other on either side of my spine, securing my shirt from falling off completely. The fabric was thin, but lined, much to my relief. I was already paranoid about not wearing a bra in this Seattle weather.

"Okay…" Alice's expression was scrutinizing as she looked me up and down. "Those pants will not do." She shook her head.

"What's wrong with my pants? I wear these for teaching all the time."

"And therein lies reason number one." Alice shot me a look of disdain. "Clothes that you wear when you're wrangling sixth grade boys high on Mountain Dew and pixie sticks should not be synonymous to what you wear when on a drunken night of mayhem with your hot female friends." She threw a pair of jeans at me. "These should even the look out. The top is pretty dressy, so the jeans will tone it down."

I held out the pair of jeans in front of me, bringing them to my hips as I looked down. "These look way too small."

"They'll fit," Alice assured me. "We'll make them fit if we have to. And please don't insult me by telling me you're wearing granny panties."

I rolled my eyes.

"Alright, girls. I just got a text from Emmett. If I'm too incapacitated later tonight to remember this, you are all responsible for reminding me that I owe him a drunk dial." Rosalie plopped her cell phone back into her small gold clutch. Obviously, she didn't have to worry about Alice berating her on her outfit. Her ensemble was nothing less than signature Rosalie; black wide leg pants, pointed stilettos, and a bright red satin top that was extremely low cut. Her hair was swept to one side and loosely pinned back behind one ear. Once again I wondered how a plain Jane like me ended up being friends with Marilyn Monroe.

I unbuttoned my pants and shimmied out of my saggy grey teacher pants.

"Hold the phone!" Alice exclaimed in disbelief. "Thank the Lord, Bella is wearing a thong! Hope may not be lost after all!" She threw her hands up in the air and waved her fingers, the blinking lights illuminating on her face. "Hallelujah!" she sang.

I narrowed my eyes at her. "Your faith in me is astounding," I muttered. I whipped out the jeans from Alice's stash of emergency designer clothes and proceeded to shove one leg inside at a time. I was right; they were too small. "Ah, crap. Alice, I told you these weren't going to fit."

"And I told you that we would make them fit." Alice's voice was determined as she came up to me, unashamedly placing her hands smack dab on the sides of my exposed ass as she gripped the belt of my jeans, and hoisted them upwards with as much strength as she could muster. "Ladies, a little help here, please?" she grunted.

I groaned as Rosalie and Angela rushed to my side, as if this wasn't humiliating enough. It was like trying to stuff a large turkey into a microwave.

Miraculously though, I was fully contained and zipped up a minute later. How I was going to manage to walk around in these, I wasn't sure.

Alice spoke as though she seemed to know what I was thinking. "They stretch."

"Apparently." I was practically lying down in a horizontal position, all capabilities of bending my legs had gone once I let myself become trapped in the denim.

A few minutes of this before I felt the limo slow to a stop and I looked outside. "Oh please tell me we're at the restaurant," I said somewhat attempting to sit up and stretch the jeans.

We were. Moments later, the chauffer parked the large limousine somehow, and we heard the clicks of the car before we saw the passenger door open by a white gloved hand.

"I wonder if anyone else is here yet," Angela mused as she stepped outside right behind me. She ducked her head with a blush of her cheeks as a group of young men walked by, heads completely turned towards the ladies exiting the ostentatious vehicle. I was grateful that I wasn't the only one uncomfortable with all of the attention. I knew Alice and Rosalie were used to it, so I didn't feel bad when I grabbed Angela's hand to drag her inside the restaurant with me before the other girls exited the car.

I took my phone out of my clutch as we entered the building, and saw that I had a few text messages. I read through them. "Jessica and Lauren are here. Tanya is on her way." I put my phone back and brought my head up just as the hostess, a college-aged young woman with blonde hair, made her way towards us with a bright smile on her face.

"Hi, we're the party of seven, under 'Angela,'" I informed the hostess.

"Right this way."

We followed her to a large table with four place settings on each side. The entire restaurant was dimly lit with an amber glow, low hanging chandeliers sporadically placed throughout. Jessica and Lauren were sitting next to each other on one side of the table in the middle of a conversation when we arrived.

Ugh. Just the sight of Lauren's thin platinum blonde hair plastered to her head made me want to vomit a little bit. Her face scrunched up into an expression that was probably supposed to resemble a smile, but lacked an ounce of anything genuine, so it looked nothing short of the face you make when you bite into a sour lemon.

Nevertheless, we all did the standard squeal and hug you did when you saw someone for the first time in years. I _was_ glad to see Jessica, despite the fact that she was one of those good friends that you could never truly trust in high school. Trust sweet Angela to actually want to keep in touch with these people for so long.

"Oh my god, Bella. You look great!" Jessica gushed. Her bubbly enthusiasm hadn't changed a bit.

"Thanks," I muttered through the blush rising in my cheeks. The look of contempt from Lauren only became clearer as she surveyed my appearance. I made sure to take the seat farthest away from her as possible.

"Where did you get that shirt? It's to die for!" Jessica continued. "And Angela, wow, that dress is amazing!"

We both blushed as we pushed ourselves into our seats. Thankfully, Alice and Rosalie were making their way to our table, and I took the opportunity to change the subject.

"Jessica, Lauren, this is Alice and Rosalie." I gestured with my hand, respectively. "We met Alice in college, and Rosalie and Alice went to high school together," I explained. The look of intimidation was written all over Lauren and Jessica's face as they stared at Alice and Rosalie who both looked like they stepped out of the cover of _In Style_ magazine. "Jessica and Lauren both went to high school with Angela and me," I explained to Alice and Rosalie.

"Oh, it's so nice to meet you!" Alice reached out her tiny hand to Jessica, who seemed overwhelmed by the woman who seemed to have more energy than she did. She similarly did so to Lauren, who reluctantly held her hand out to shake. "Don't Angela and Bella look amazing? I stocked up on my last trip to New York, and I'm so glad I did. Designer outfits just always look so much better, don't they?"

Jessica was in awe. Lauren couldn't seem to erase the permanent grimace on her face as she looked at my shirt for the second time. "It's designer?" She raised her eyebrow.

Alice missed the cutting tone in Lauren's voice, only nodding her head excitedly. "Yes, of course. Only the best for my friends. They look great, don't they?" She looked as if she expected Lauren to agree.

Lauren shrugged her shoulders as she glanced my way. "Yeah," she admitted unwillingly.

A laugh almost escaped me as Rosalie gave me a knowing look. Rosalie was never good at hiding her true emotions, especially when it came to people she didn't like. I couldn't help but be delighted in the fact that she definitely didn't like Lauren already.

The dinner went along smoothly. Tanya, Angela's cousin, came a few minutes later, and the same round of introductions commenced. She seemed nice enough, but judging by her wavy strawberry blond hair, chic black mini-dress, and the way that she flirted with the guy filling our glasses of water, she was one of those girls who was used to being the center of attention. Imagine the look on her face when the guy with the water pitcher winked at Rosalie.

Rosalie smirked. Tanya was livid.

Luckily, I had enough cocktails to remove myself from the silent cat fight.

Oops. Maybe I had one too many.

After a couple of hours of small talk and consumed entrees of calamari, grilled chicken, and lean cuts of steak, I was having the time of my life and we were ready to go. My buzz was kicking into full gear.

I burst into laughter as I stumbled onto Alice's small frame.

"Yay! We're going to get fun Bella tonight!" Alice exclaimed as she jumped up and down.

"Woo! Fun Bella!" I pumped my fist in the air as I kicked the door open with my foot. "Oh my gosh, I'm so excited, you guys! Angela! I have a present for you inside the limo. Let's go inside the limo! Jess, Lauren, Tanya! Wanna ride in the limo with us? We have reservations to go to the piano bar down the street. It's gonna be so much fun! Come on!" I waved my hand over to the stretch hummer that had found its way in front of the restaurant again. "Come on, come on, come on!" I waved them over frantically, not caring that Alice, Rosalie, and Angela had highly amused looks on their faces, whereas Tanya, Jessica, and Lauren showed expressions of uncertainty.

"No really, girls, you should come with. The limo driver will even take you home if you're worried about having too much to drink tonight. You can just leave your cars in the parking lot," Alice persuaded them. Soon enough we were inside the large vehicle, and I wasted no time opening the sun roof, not caring about the light sprinkling of rain still coming down on my face.

The limo was commencing down the road and I didn't care about the handful of stares we got as Rosalie and Alice joined me through the hole of the sunroof, dancing to the grinding beats of Busta Rhymes. I never danced like this unless I was completely drunk…something about alcohol gave me the illusion that I was a reincarnate of someone from a Missy Elliot music video.

Angela was always amused by this behavior from me, especially from knowing me as long as she had. I guess befriending Alice and Rosalie helped bring out that side in me even more.

Jessica and Lauren were both looking on with pure shock, probably due to the fact that I avoided parties and school dances like the plague in high school and I literally didn't have my first drink until my junior year of college.

_We got em hot in this bitch, so throw the water on em_

_We got em hot in this bitch, so throw the water on em…_

The song was over by the time we reached Singin' in the Rain. It was a piano bar that Esme recommended to me when I asked her if she knew of any fun places downtown where we could go for Angela's bachelorette party. Apparently it was voted "Best Ladies Night Out" in some local magazine. It sounded like fun; dueling pianos, buckets of booze, and fun music. We had reservations, so they were also supposed to set us up with a fun little party hat for Angela and other favors, I supposed.

After we got past the line to get in, we were seated to the right of the stage. , I immediately felt a little claustrophobic—this place was packed. It was smoky inside, and fairly intimate for such a large space. Two grand pianos faced each other on the small stage, which were each occupied by a man and a microphone. The establishment set aside two small round tables for our party, adorned with handfuls of ticker tape and plastic cups surrounding a bucket of ice with a bottle of cheap champagne inside.

_Hold me closer, tiny dancer_

_Count the headlights on the highway_

_Lay me down in sheets of linen_

_You had a busy day today_

All 300 or so people in the bar were singing boisterously along to the men on stage. The closer we got to our tables I was able to obtain a better look at the men behind the pianos. Surprisingly, they were both relatively young, pounding away effortlessly on the keys, necks straining slightly as they belted into their respective microphones. They were kind of cute, I guess. One of the guys had spiky blond hair, dressed like someone who just spent hours shopping at the Gap. I could practically see the price tags still intact. The other was a bit older, with shaggy dirty blonde hair and a look on his face like he just had anonymous sex in the bar's unisex restroom.

Women (who were much further gone than I was in the drunk department) were "dancing" in the empty space in front of the stage. It looked more like they were dry humping to me. The number of tiaras and bridal veils indicated that we weren't the only ones here for a bachelorette party.

"Here!" I picked up the paper crown on cheap satin slash that said "Bride-to-be" and tossed it in Angela's direction. She hesitantly put on the sash and set the crown on top of her head before we all burst out laughing.

"What?" Angela asked, confusion showing on her face. She took it off and noticed that the high point of the crown was shaped more like…a particular male organ. She blushed and set it down on the table.

"Oh, come on, Angela!" Rosalie picked up the crown and attempted to place it back on Angela's head. "It's your bachelorette party! It's your God given right to show off your inner skank, however small she may be in there."

Angela laughed as she shrugged her shoulders. "Alright, alright!" She crossed her arms, the blush still covering her cheeks, but she had a good-natured smile on her face as she accepted the phallic symbol adorning the makeshift tiara on top of her head.

A waiter came by with a pad of paper and pen. "Good evening, ladies. Is this your first time at Singin' in the Rain?" he asked. He had an off-beat look to him; motorcycle boots, black jeans, a black t-shirt sporting the bar logo, and black eyeliner surrounding his stunning blue eyes. His hair was buzzed into a short Mohawk, and his face was a little reminiscent of Charlie from the TV show _Lost_.

When we told him that this was everyone's first time, he smiled and pointed to the small slips of paper resting on the center of each table. "Write your song requests on the yellow pieces of paper and bring it up on stage when you have one written down. They know almost everything. And a little piece of advice: the bigger the tip, the sooner they'll play your song," he advised with a wink.

The Charlie look-a-like left soon after taking our drink orders and we turned our attention back to the pianos.

"Ah….let's see…." The guy with the spiky blond hair was weeding through the song requests. We could see various dollar bills in different amounts and quantities poking through the folded pieces of paper. Occasionally he would take one out and crumple it in his hand before chucking it across the stage. "That's one's shit…no…no…Ah! Here's a good one!" He cleared his throat into the microphone. "This one goes out to all of the horny ladies in the crowd…."

The screams were deafening.

He continued. "When you're all alone at night with no man to give you what you need, we want to let you know…there's nothing wrong with touching yourself."

He played the intro to "I Touch Myself" by the Divinyls, and before I knew it, I was sipping on a Sex on the Beach through a thin black straw and standing in front of my chair, swaying my hips to the music, my free hand roaming across my chest and down my body.

"Come on!" Alice pulled me away from my seat, pleading me and Rosalie to dance in the middle of the small crowd that was growing bigger in front of the stage.

_Oh God, where are we?_ I could smell the sex in the air…I felt like we walked into an orgy of half-debilitated men and women lost in the land of booze as they gyrated their hips to their imaginary partners in the air, dancing to their miscalculated beats, the women not even realizing (or maybe not caring) that their breasts were dangerously close to completely popping out of their tube tops or low cut shirts.

Despite the tinge of disgust I felt, I was still pretty hammered myself and in no place to judge anyone at the moment. I was just glad that my puppies were secure in my sparkly Chanel top. If I was even the tiniest bit more sober I would surely be self-conscious of the numerous stares I was getting from the men in the crowd who were leaning into each other, whispering, and pointing at my ass in my super tight jeans. Good thing sober left me a long time ago.

As the song came to an end, I caught the eye of the guy with the spiky blonde hair. He winked at me.

I had to hold onto Alice to make it back to my seat without eating shit on the ground. I tried to ignore the scrutinizing expressions from Jessica and Lauren as they sat still in their seats, deliberately sipping slowly on their own cocktails, as if to prove to me that they were women of a different, classier breed. Good thing I was too drunk to care.

"Where's Tanya?" I asked Angela.

She looked around for a minute and then nodded her head towards the bar across the room. Tanya looked quite at home talking to some guy standing next to the high bar top. From what I could see, he was tall and lanky, with a messy array of bronze hair on top of his head. His back was to me, so I couldn't see his face, but the white collared shirt fit snugly across his back and indicated a man who knew his way around the gym. He was leaning against the bar with one hand, and the other was in his pocket, his rolled up sleeves showing off the perfect tendons of his toned forearms even from fifty feet away.

I watched as he pulled his hand out of his pocket to bring it up to run his fingers through his hair. His shirt lifted up and I saw a sliver of skin showing above the dark jeans that sat low on his hips, covering his perfectly round butt….

"Bella! Earth to Bella!"

I shook my head and registered the small hand waving frantically in my face. "Sorry, what?"

"We want to request a song for Angela while she's in the bathroom. What song do you think we should request?" Alice was tapping her pen on the top of the small round table, looking at me in anticipation.

I shrugged.

Luckily, I didn't have to think about it long before Rosalie spoke up.

"I got it!" she exclaimed, feverishly jotting something down on the yellow slip of paper before bolting out of her seat.

"'Barbie Girl?' Are you fucking kidding me? Do we look like fucking pussies to you?" The guy on stage with the shaggy hair was spewing insults at the audience, apparently for requesting a song that questioned his masculinity. I snorted. Obviously this was an establishment that prided itself on its crude and lude environment.

"Don't insult us by requesting that Aquamarine, Britney Spears shit," he scoffed. "Alright," he threw the handful of requests on top of the grand piano and flexed his fingers. "Let's play some Journey, shall we—well, _hello_!" He purred into the microphone just as Rosalie stepped up the platform of the stage. "I'm James, what's your name, sweetie?"

Rosalie rolled her eyes, placing the song request gingerly down on the piano stand with a folded up twenty dollar bill. "Just play the song, _sweetie_." She smirked as she sashayed back to our table, brushing off the numerous whistles from the men in the audience.

"Alright, only because I'm hoping you'll give me a BJ later," he said with a wink. More "ooh's" and catcalls from the audience sprinkled the air as James read the slip of paper. "Oh okay… may I have Angela to the stage please? Angela? If you're anything like your friend in the red shirt, my dick is going to punching out of my pants in a second, here."

We turned excitedly to Angela who instantaneously looked like a deer in headlights. She shook her head madly, pleading with us not to make her go up on stage.

"Go on, Ang," Alice encouraged.

Angela looked at me with terror in her eyes, and I felt pity for her. Of course, I could relate to what she was dealing with; she was the only person I knew who was shyer than I was. In an act of determination, being a good maid-of-honor, and falling victim to the alcohol in my system (I lost count of how many cocktails I had exactly), I grabbed Angela's phallic crown and placed it on top of my head. "I'm Angela!"

"God damn it." James looked me up and down, seduction laced in his eyes. He looked back down at the piece of paper. "Angela is getting married next weekend, and tonight is her bachelorette party. Everyone say, 'Congratulations, Angela!'" He paused as the audience echoed his demand.

"Angela, why don't you sit on up here?" He patted at the large flat space on top of the piano. I sauntered up the stage, waving away the whistles and vulgar comments from the crowd before I turned my back to the piano and lifted myself up as gracefully as one could when intoxicated. My breath hitched unexpectedly as I watched James remove himself from his piano bench and walked over to where I was. "Now, a beautiful woman like you, where the hell is your fiancée, and why isn't he with you?" I opened my mouth to respond, but he interrupted me before I could. "Oh, I know where he is." He had a sly smile as he winked at me, not so subtly placing one very toned and tanned arm around my waist and rested on my bare back. My heart knew he was an asshole, but my body only knew that he was insanely hot and I was insanely drunk. "He's at a strip club, getting a blow job from a fake blonde with bigger boobs," he barked.

I rolled my eyes.

"Okay, well we need to give Angela a proper send off before she signs her life away, not to mention her sex life. Better hope one of your friends bought you a vibrator. Once you chain a man down, he's gonna wanna look for his pussy somewhere else. Am I right, fellas?" A number of men whooped and hollered.

I was getting really annoyed with his so-called playful banter. I leaned back on the piano with my hands and shot James a look of boredom. I let my legs swing off the edge playfully.

"I think you're destroying Angela's buzz, James," the guy with the spiky blonde hair warned into the microphone. I looked over and gave him a grateful smile. He winked at me again.

"Shut up, Mike," James retorted. He retreated back to his bench. He turned his attention back to the waiting audience. "We're going to sing a song to Angela…. Now should we sing her a nice, pretty song that will make her feel all warm and fluttery inside?" He cupped his ear as he awaited the audience response.

"NO!" The audience's decision was unanimous.

"Or should we sing a song that's perverted…and dirty?"

"Hell yes! Down and dirty!" Apparently, this was a regular mantra of the Singin' in the Rain crowd, because the chant was loud and crystal clear.

"Down and dirty it is," James crooned with a mischievous smile. "So, Mike, you heard 'em. They want it down and dirty, so get your pussy ass off the bench and make room for someone who can handle it," he joked.

I was a little annoyed with how Mike seemed to be pushed around, but he didn't seem to be bothered by it. He just rolled his eyes and got off the bench, taking his cellphone off the piano and placing it in his pocket.

"Mike Newton, ladies and gentlemen. Give him a hand," James instructed to a round of applause as Mike waved and nodded his head at the audience. James took a quick swig of his water bottle before placing the cap back on and setting it down on the floor next to him. "Now Angela, as much as I'd like to have you all to myself when I sing this song, I'm afraid I need some help. Everyone give a round of applause to someone who definitely likes it down and dirty….Eddie, come on up."

Oh God.

The women in the audience were screaming like David Beckham just walked into the room. A pair of smoldering green eyes were floating their way towards me, stopping my breath completely. A playful smirk graced his lips, revealing an arrogance about him that reminded me a little bit of James. I recognized him immediately by his hair. It was the same man Tanya was talking to earlier.

If I was nervous before, I was positively trembling now. The effect the alcohol was having on me was definitely not helping. The hot lights were making me feel flushed, and I was sure a light layer of sweat was coating my face at the moment.

"So…Eddie. What song do we sing to a woman who's getting married in a week?" James asked across the stage.

I looked over as Eddie sat himself down and adjusted the bench in front of the piano before switching out the microphone for his own. "She's getting married? God damn it. Why are all the hot ones taken?" He stared at me with an intensity that rocked me to the core. I fought the shiver threatening to escape up my spine. Of course, this was the typical thing they said to all of the women they brought up on stage. I was no different, I reminded myself. I reminded my drunken self.

James snickered. "Exactly what I was thinking, man."

"Well I have the perfect song," Eddie said into the microphone, the deep timbre of his voice amplified through the PA system, giving me chills with the reverberations of his speech. "Angela…when you are lying down on your bed, in your honeymoon suite, legs entangled with your husband's… naked… and sweaty, wondering, 'Can life get any better than this?' The day will come when you'll find yourself wanting to rub one out because your husband can't get it up. And Angela, if that day ever comes…_when_ that day comes, I want you to think of me, singing this song." He smirked at me as his lips caressed the microphone.

_Why don't we do it in the road_

_Why don't we do it in the road_

_Why don't we do it in the road_

_Why don't we do it in the road _

_No one will be watching us_

_Why don't we do it in the road_

The words were less than profound and more than barbaric. Maybe it was the alcohol possessing me yet again, or maybe the alcohol was merely letting my inner beast out, something that I didn't even know was there. I didn't know what came over me, but I crawled towards him. My cock hat fell off, and I threw it off the stage. My butt in the air, clawing at the piano like a cat on the prowl, I made my way closer and closer, until I was right in front of him. He smiled at something. I only realized later that he probably got a good look down my shirt, but at that moment, I didn't realize, nor did I care. I raised my arms up and knelt before him, my knees level with his eyes as he continued to sing and play.

_Why don't we do it in the road_

_Why don't we do it in the road _

_No one will be watching us_

_Why don't we do it in the road_

When he hit the high falsetto, females and males alike were cheering and I found myself screaming out loud in praise. His eyes were half-lidded when he licked his lips and bent his head down for a hard-hitting piano solo.

The crowd roared, and out of the corner of my eye, I saw that people were dancing with reckless abandon next to and in front of the tables and stage.

I swayed my hips with my hands clenched through my hair, biting my lip as he continued his crooning. His voice was like velvet and I was drawn to it. Soon enough, my lips were pressed to the other side of his microphone, exchanging hot breaths through the repeated lyric, singing and screaming the guttural "No one we'll be watching us" before shaking our heads down as we sang the rest of the verse.

"Woo!" Eddie clunked the chords in a flourish as he ended the song. "Angela, your fiancée is one lucky man." He reached around him to pull out what looked like two long strips of paper. Upon closer inspection, I realized they were stickers. "We've got a nice little souvenir for you, to remember us by." He held them up for the audience to see. "You get two of them. One for your car. One for you." I watched, slightly confused, as he peeled off the backing of one of the stickers. "Now here's the important question, Angela. Front or rear?"

I didn't comprehend the question. I looked at my table for the first time since I approached the stage and they were all grinning from ear to ear, amused expressions painted on their faces. Well, all of them except for Lauren and Tanya.

In the shade out of the spotlight, I was able to make out Alice calling out my attention. She pointedly gestured to her chest and her butt, repeating the action, until it clicked.

Oh. _My_ front or rear bumper. "Rear?" I questioned. I guess that was my answer.

Eddie smirked. "I like a girl who takes it from behind." The crowd whistled and catcalled again. I was about to step down, but I was interrupted.

"No, no, no, Angela." James shook his head. "I know for a fact that Eddie has a fantasy of taking someone on top of a piano. You might be the lucky girl who can make his dream come true." He chuckled, taking another swig from his water bottle.

"Bend over, baby. This will be a good story to tell your fiancé when he comes home tonight with his face covered in cum."

My eyes widened, but I did as I was told. If I was sober to any extent, I would have been as red as a tomato. But I wasn't sober. I definitely wasn't sober. I laughed as I crouched on the piano on all fours, and feigned shock as I put one hand to my mouth, looking back at Eddie who was still behind me. Alice and Rosalie gave me a thumbs-up sign, while Angela covered her laughter behind her hands. Jessica was even laughing, but Lauren sat back, her eyes practically rolling in the back of her head with disgust. Tanya was livid.

_Jealous, much?_ I thought to myself, my mouth twisted up slightly.

I looked back as Edward stood up. The sticker was peeled and placed delicately between his fingers. He wasted no time when he slapped it on my ass, causing me to yelp.

He laughed, walking over to help me down from the piano. "Sorry, I thought you might like it a little rough," he whispered.

I gulped. "You don't know what I like," I responded meekly.

"Oh, don't I?" he raised his eyebrow as he walked back to his piano. "Let's give a round of applause to Angela, everybody," he said into his microphone, taking his seat back down on the bench.

I held onto the piano as I bent down in a weak curtsy, shooting my finger at James in a thank you as I sauntered in a sloppy dance off the stage. He laughed and winked at me, mimicking my gesture with his fingers. "Don't forget your sticker, baby. Unless you want this one on your front bumper." He garnered a wickedly mischievous smile on his face as I trekked back towards the stage, snatching the white bumper sticker out of his waiting hand. I narrowed my eyes at him slightly, but was not quite able to fight the flirtatious smile curling up on the corners of my mouth.

As I turned back to look at the sticker, I was able to read it more carefully: "Shut Up and Sing! Because Otherwise We're Just Playing With Ourselves…" Clever.

Alice's eyes were as wide as saucers when I plopped back down in my seat. I was starting to feel dizzy.

"What. The. Fuck. Was. That?"

"What?" I replied, hoping my expression was innocent enough.

"What?" she said in a mocking tone. "You and Hottie One and Hottie Two sharing an orgasmic experience in front of 300 people, that's what. God, Bella, I know that you're drunk off your ass right now, but I have _never_ seen you act like that. Never." She shook her head. "Damn. I wanted to make out with you myself.'

I burst out laughing, but the laughter was short-lived when I felt a shooting pain in my head when I hit it on the back of my chair. "Ouchie."

"Okay, maybe we should get you home," Rosalie suggested.

"No, this is Angela's party. I want to stay," I insisted. I shot a look of apology at Angela who smiled back at me in comfort. "I'm sorry I'm so drunk."

Angela laughed it off. "Eh, don't worry about it. I'm just grateful that you took the fall for me up there. I don't know what I would have done if I was up there. You handled it like a champ, drunk and all. And I don't know about anyone else, but I swear those guys had a crush on you."

I rolled my eyes and waved my hand in a dramatic gesture. "Whatever. They're paid to flatter their customers. And may I bring up the fact that they think my name is Angela and I'm getting married next week," I reminded her with a pointed finger.

I looked down and realized a few new items in front of me than were there before. At the center of each of our tables, rested a large plastic bucket filled with a pink tinted liquid, ice, and four plastic straws. My eyes were cross-eyed as I examined the straws more closely.

"Hey!" I exclaimed. "These look like—"

"Cock straws," Rosalie finished for me, pulling out one of the peach colored straws and started sucking on the bulbous tip. "Much smaller than the real thing, but I'm sure that you'd know that by now. Or, at least, I hope you do. Hey, maybe James or Eddie can give you a little educational experience," Rosalie suggested with a nudge of her elbow.

"Shut up. I know what a cock looks like," I retorted. I grabbed a straw extending from the bucket with the tip of my thumb on forefinger on one hand and took a sip of the drink. "Holy shit," I coughed out. "That tastes like pure vodka." I grimaced.

"Yeah, they're horrible aren't they?" A male voice spoke softly into my ear, and I whipped my head around. James gave me a cocky grin, unfazed by our sudden close proximity. "You mind if I sit down?" he asked, pulling out the empty chair next to me, waiting for my answer.

I shook my head, dumbfounded that he was sitting down. Guys like him weren't supposed to be interested in girls like me unless they thought they were getting something.

Maybe that was it.

If I wasn't so drunk, I might have had a problem with that.


	3. Chapter 3 by BellaoftheBall

**Bella**

_Oh….dizzy_. I closed my eyes, opened them, blinked, and stared forward. _Okay…. Now I'm good. I think. _I turned my head a small fraction to find myself staring into James's stark blue eyes. They twinkled like they had a secret. I bet those eyes carry a _lot_ of secrets. "Have you always been this way?"

"What way?" James licked his lips as he leaned in closer to my flushed face, not losing that mischievous gleam in his stare for a second. We were at the bar now; I was seated on one of the high stools bolted in front of the green countertop, while James leaned back against it standing beside me, catching me every now and then when I lost my balance on top of my stool. He was a little too close for comfort, his hip touching my thigh. Maybe I was just uncomfortable with the fact that I was incredibly drunk and turned on in the middle of a public establishment.

He was hot, that was for certain. Oh…. But boy, was he trouble. That was for damn sure. "You're just…like….oozing sex." I don't know if I seemed more in awe or in slight disgust, but James seemed to think it was funny.

He chuckled, showing off his perfectly white teeth. His shaggy hair combed across his forehead in a manner that let his hair fall between his eyes slightly. It was sexy. Although, he didn't quite pull it off nearly as well as…what was his name? Eddie.

I reflexively turned my head, my subconscious looking for that mess of bronze hair, and saw that he was still on stage, positioning another bumper sticker on some woman's buxom chest. According to her little introduction, she was a college coed from Puerto Rico, celebrating her 21st birthday with a large group of friends. When Eddie asked if she wanted the sticker on her front or rear bumper, she walked over to the piano bench proudly stuck out her chest, which was directly eye-level to Eddie where he was sitting, as the audience cheered her on. Kudos to the more brazen females for letting a random hot stranger feel them up in public.

"This is why I love my job," Eddie said while making a grand display of peeling the sticker from it's backing before placing it across the length of the woman's chest, making sure to smooth over the creases as she giggled at the sensation, causing her breasts to bounce up and down. "Careful, you're gonna poke my eyes out with those things," he snickered, grabbing each breast with the palms of his hands, giving a final squeeze before dismissing her off the stage.

I cringed. "You guys get paid to be that disgusting, right? I mean, it's obvious that you don't just walk around telling random women you want them to suck your cock… right?"

James laughed. "Well, I don't know about Eddie, but as for me…. Yeah, I guess you can say it's all a part of the environment."

I breathed a small sigh of relief. It was a bit of a comfort to think that it was at least partly just an act.

"Oh…looks like I'm being called up on stage." James pushed himself off the bar. He was impossibly close to me now. "You going to stick around?" I could practically feel the heat of his breath on my forehead.

I shrugged. "I'm here with them and we came in a limo." I pointed to my table to the side of the stage, which was currently being surrounded by my gaggling group of friends.

"I can give you a ride home."

I looked at him with uncertainty. "I probably shouldn't. I can't really ditch my friends. We all came together. Speaking of which, I should probably go back to my table. Thanks for the drink."

James didn't look dismayed. "You're welcome" he sighed. "Alright. Let me know when you change your mind."

"_When_ I change my mind?" I raised my eyebrow, not sure whether to be turned on or put off by his cockiness.

He winked as he walked away and up the stage, switching places with Mike before he took his place on the piano bench.

More crude banter aside, and James and Eddie started a rendition of _Kokomo_, replacing the title with the phrase "Camel Toe," and subsequently changing all of the lyrics of the song to convey something more appropriately crude for the establishment.

Jessica and Lauren had already left, giving me disdainful looks behind their fake plastered on smiles before they headed out. They decided to take a cab back to the restaurant to pick up their cars. I couldn't exactly say that I was sorry to see them leave.

I made my way to my table where Rosalie, Alice, and Angela were all sitting. I plopped down in an empty chair next to them.

"You're sobering up a little bit, I see," Rosalie observed with a smile. "What's going on with you and—"

"Guys, I think James wants me to go home with him. I don't know what to do. Angela, I'm horny." I buried my face in my hands at my confession. The alcohol raging in my system caused me to be completely brazen with my comments. My mental filter was completely switched off.

Angela chuckled as she gently stroked my hair.

"I'm really, really horny."

Rosalie snorted.

"Mmmhmm. Bella, honey. We know." Alice's voice tried to stay composed, but even through the thick veil of alcohol impairing my perception, I knew she was laughing at me.

"But I don't want to sleep with him, do I?" I continued my rant with frustration in my voice. "I'm not that kind of girl," I whined with a dramatic flourish of my hand. "You know what I mean? I'm not that kind of girl." My speech was muffled by the fact that I dropped my head to the table on top of my crossed arms, burying my face inside.

I heard snickering above me.

"And what kind of girl would that be? A girl who gets herself smacked on the ass on top of a grand piano in front of three hundred people?" Rosalie barked. Angela and Alice were in hysterics.

"Or how about a girl who starts gyrating in the air while singing a song about monkeys having butt sex with a random stranger while wearing a crown shaped like a massive dick on her head!" Alice could barely make out the end of the sentence, she was laughing so hard.

"Sto-op!" I whined. "You make me sound like a two-bit whore. I can't help it that I haven't had sex in a really long time."

"And now there's an incredibly attractive man who wants to have it with you, so what's the problem?" Rosalie reasoned.

I gave her a look. "Because that's not me."

Alice took my hand in hers across the table. "Come on, Bella. You haven't had sex since like high school—"

"Say it a little louder why don't you," I muttered. "And I've had sex since then."

"Barely," Rosalie muttered under her breath before continuing. "Bella—I think even you can agree that you deserve to have a little fun. You don't have to sleep with James—just see where it goes."

"Yeah, and if you're feeling up to it, great. If not, I'm sure it's not like he's absolutely sex-deprived or something. And besides, he's hot." Alice gave me a smile and patted my hand, like everything was solved with her statement.

I pursed my lips together. I wished my head wasn't spinning so I could actually think clearly. Finally, I was able to gather some semblance of logic and reason when I remembered why we were there in the bar in the first place. "Oh god—Angela. This is your party. I can't just leave you guys like this!"

"Consider it an early birthday present." Angela smiled. "Actually, it's past midnight, so consider it a birthday present. Only if you want to stay, of course."

_Did I want to stay?_ Maybe I did. But as intoxicated as I was, and as attractive as he was, I was just not a one-night stand girl.

But I was incredibly single… and as much as I hated to admit it… my body really wanted it.

But, it wasn't me.

I made my decision. "I'm not going to have sex with him. But….maybe make out with him a little?"

"That's a start," Alice admitted enthusiastically.

"Are you guys sure you don't mind?"

"No, have fun. Don't you dare think we're going to cockblock you for one second," Rosalie commanded with a point of her finger.

I smiled. "I'll just call a cab home. If I let him take me home, he'll probably think it's an open invitation."

"God, you're strangely coherent for being so drunk," Rosalie marveled.

_There's gotta be something else_

_Let me tell you something else_

_There was a girl that passed me by_

_She gave a smile buy I was shy_

_And I looked down, so down_

I turned my attention back to the stage at that moment where Eddie was playing and crooning into his microphone. It should be illegal for him to display so much sex appeal as effortlessly as he seemed to.

He was seated at the piano facing me, while James was at the piano closest to our table, but with his back turned to us.

His gaze flickered towards mine for less than a second, but it was enough to stop me breathless.

I wondered…. If it were Eddie in James's place, would I let _him_ take me home? I guess I'd never know…. I ignored the feeling that deep down I think I already knew the answer to that question. I would.

I fought the shiver that traveled through my body and tried to avert my gaze from Eddie's, but it was proving to be near impossible. He was mesmerizing to look at, really. I wanted to run my fingers through his shiny copper hair, brush it away from his eyes. Eyes I could get lost in forever.

_Underground_

_Everything's heavy underground_

_You've been kicked around_

_Did life bring you down here?_

_Everything's heavy underground_

"So, it kinda looks like Tanya thinks she's going to get lucky with Eddie tonight," Alice whispered to me with a roll of her eyes.

"How do you know?" I frowned, not able to hide my disappointment at the thought of Eddie with the beautiful and perfect Tanya.

"She's been hanging around him all night. It's obvious." Rosalie took a sip of her drink. "She keeps going to the bar on the other side of the room. That's where he goes when he's not playing."

"Oh." I pretended not to be interested. I worked to hard to make it seem like I was watching James and Eddie on their pianos, but the truth was, my mind was swirling with thoughts as much as the alcohol I consumed was swirling in my stomach.

Before I knew it, James was strutting off the stage and coming towards me. "So, we're almost closing up here, have you changed your mind yet?" He smiled his cocky smile as he spun a chair around from another table to sit next to me. He winked at the other girls.

Alice, Rosalie, and Angela smiled knowingly at each other before they simultaneously looked at me. I nodded ever so slightly. They were right. It didn't have to be anything serious, or anything overtly sexual…just fun.

"Call me if you need me," Alice whispered in my ear. She smiled meaningfully at James before leading the rest of the girls out.

"Happy Birthday," they mouthed simultaneously by the doorway.

I rolled my eyes and waved them goodbye.

James eyes brightened when he realized what was happening. "I knew you'd change your mind." He leaned into me, lightly tracing his fingers on the exposed skin of my arm, leaving goosebumps in its wake. "You wanna hang out here a little bit, and then head back to my place?"

I every so slowly let out the breath that had caught in my throat. "Uh…James. Before we go any further—"

"I know, I know--you're getting married." He smirked, leaning impossibly close to my hair. His lips barely touched my ear. I shivered. "Don't worry…I won't tell if you don't."

_Oh my god._ That's right. He thought I was getting married. He didn't even know my real name. I pushed one hand against him and mustered as much sobriety as I could, looking at him in all earnest with my expression. "James. I have to tell you… " I bit my lip. Would he still want to be with me after he found out I wasn't being completely honest with him? I had to tell him, nevertheless.

I took a deep breath, my hand still resting gently on his shoulder. "I'm not getting married. My name's not Angela. My friends and I were here for a bachelorette party, but it wasn't mine. I guess you could say I kind of took the fall for my friend so she wouldn't get embarrassed."

Confusion marred his flawless face for a second, but it was possible that he seemed even more aroused by my confession. "Okay…What _is_ your name?"

"Bella." I dared myself to look at him from under my lashes.

An amused expression graced his lips while he continued to stare at me. "If you think that changes my mind about you, it doesn't. Now, I'm in luck because you're single."

I smiled.

His blue eyes were sparkling with that bit of mischief. "My offer still stands. What do you say?"

My smile fell a little. _He was good._ Yet, it didn't change anything. "I'm not going to sleep with you."

He chuckled, looking overly defensive in his response. "Hey! What kind of person do you take me for, Bella? I'm talking about a game of chess, maybe play Guitar Hero on my Wii. And if you happen to strip naked for me and we end up having hot sex on my kitchen table, so be it."

I snorted, grateful for his attempts to make me feel more comfortable.

His face softened, still alight with amusement. "But no pressure. We can just hang out here, see how it goes. If you want to call a cab home at the end of the night, you'll break my heart, but I'll understand. Deal?"

I nodded, satisfied with his suggestion.

"Hey, I gotta go to the bathroom. I'll be right back. Don't go anywhere." He winked at me before ambling towards the hallway tucked behind the bar on our side of the room.

I nodded again, taking a sip of the water in front of me. Probably Angela's.

I looked up and saw that Mike had taken the stage again. He was playing random songs as patrons filtered out of the bar. I scanned the room absentmindedly, only to rest my eyes on Tanya and Eddie, chatting it up again. Just like Alice said, he headed straight for the bar on the other side of the room, right where Tanya was waiting for him.

This time, Tanya's back was to me, and Eddie was facing me, giving me ample opportunity to fully appreciate his beauty without a large piano standing in the way. It was hard to tell if he was truly interested in Tanya or not, judging by the way he was interacting with her, but something told me he was someone who held his cards close to his vest, in direct contrast to James who seemed to bear no shame laying everything out on the table.

He licked his lips every so often, bringing his hand habitually to his hair, running his fingers through those luscious bronze locks. I sighed.

He scratched the back of his neck, letting his shirt lift up, giving me a second peek to the wonderful sliver of skin beneath his stomach, while his other arm propped him up against the bar. He laughed at something Tanya said, and the sight left me completely frozen.

He threw his head back slightly, and his face lit up, crinkling his eyes and flashing his perfectly white teeth. It was strange. He looked almost familiar in some way, but I couldn't figure out why that would be. Surely I would have remembered seeing him before.

Then, before I had time to look away, he turned his head in my direction, scanning the room just as I did earlier. Something caught his attention, causing him to furrow his brow. Before I could turn around in motivation of my own curiosity, I realized that his eyes had rested on mine.

Suddenly, his expression was severe. His eyes narrowed, a crease forming in the middle of his brow as he stared. It was truly frightening. Yet, I couldn't pull away.

I didn't understand.

Why was he looking at me like that?

It wasn't long before Tanya realized he had stopped paying attention to her. Her hand quickly went to his bicep, and gave a toss of her long blond hair over her shoulder. He reluctantly broke his gaze and returned half-heartedly to his conversation. He put his hand back in his pocket, but even from the distance between us, I could tell he was clenching his fist by the way the veins and tendons were protruding in his exposed forearm.

"I asked the bartender to fix you a drink on the house. I had to lie and say it was your birthday." James was back with two colorful looking cocktails in his hands. He pushed one towards me, a martini glass with an strip of orange peel hanging from the side. The drink was a mix of orange and red with crushed ice. I recognized the drink; a sex on the beach. I almost rolled my eyes at the subtle innuendo James was hinting at by pressing this drink upon me.

"Actually, it is my birthday." I smiled. "So thank you."

James grinned. "Happy Birthday! Well, we definitely have to celebrate then." He pushed the drink towards me another inch.

I pursed my lips, wondering if it was a good idea to have another drink in my condition. "Although, I really shouldn't drink anymore."

"Are you sure?" James asked, in a sweet crooning voice. It almost sounded like singing. "What's one little drink going to do to you?"

I raised my eyebrow at him.

James held up his hand as if he were taking an oath. "I swear I will be a perfect gentleman. And if you happen to take off your top singing along to Britney Spears and you want to give me a blow job in my car, so be it."

I snorted again. I wasn't quite convinced, but he knew he was breaking me down.

James leaned in and spoke in my ear to make me feel those shivers again. "Just take a sip, so I don't feel like such an asshole." He smiled.

I rolled my eyes, but brought the drink closer to me with the edge of my fingers. I brought the straw to my lips and took a long sip. "There. Are you happy?"

James chuckled. "Thank you. Now, do you want me to sing you happy birthday on the piano? I can bring the whole crowd in on it."

I shook my head. "No... I think I've endured enough embarrassment for one night."

"Okay, okay." James relented. "So tell me, Bella. Now that I know your real name, what do you do?"

"I'm a teacher."

"Ooh." James liked that answer, I could tell. "Naughty school teacher?"

I laughed. "No, a middle school teacher. I teach English." I took another small sip of my drink. It was actually quite tasty.

"Damn. I didn't have any English teachers that looked like you when I was going to school. Maybe I wouldn't have ditched class so often," he joked.

I blushed.

He leaned back in his chair. "So—"

"Hey, James, can I talk to you for a sec?" _That deep velvet voice._ I whipped my head around almost too fast, and immediately closed my eyes to stop the spinning images in my head. When I opened them, Eddie was standing not two feet away from us, a stern expression fixed upon James. I only sat there with my mouth completely open, gaping at his perfect frame and heady scent stinging my nostrils, a mix of his cologne and traces of sweat, evidently from spending the night performing under hot lights.

"Uh, can it wait?" James frowned. He was obviously annoyed with the interruption.

"No." Eddie seemed to communicate something with his eyes before turning his attention momentarily at me. "Excuse us for a minute."

I was too dumbfounded to speak. The close proximity of Eddie confounded me of all capable speech or coherent thinking.

Luckily, they didn't wait for me to answer. James scooted his chair back and walked to a secluded part of the room by the bar's entrance while I sat alone with my drink. I smiled lazily at the Charlie-looking waiter who was cleaning up the neighboring tables and continued to sip my drink out of sheer boredom of nothing else to do. James was right. One more drink wasn't going to hurt me.

I looked around and saw that Tanya had left. I wondered what happened. I couldn't help but feel a little sense of pleasure knowing that Tanya would not be getting "lucky" with Eddie as she had originally hoped.

_Ugh_. A gurgling erupted in my stomach. I didn't feel so good.

I pushed my drink away, grabbing the abandoned glasses of water before me, hoping to dilute the awful nausea that was slowly washing over my entire body.

No, the water wasn't working. I pursed my lips together.

I grimaced with the pain, putting one hand to my stomach. Okay, maybe I was wrong. One drink was one drink too many.

Putting one hand over my mouth I pushed my chair back in haste, walking as fast as my legs could carry me to the ladies restroom.

00000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

_Ohhh…._

My head was pounding.

My mouth felt…disgusting.

I could barely open my eyes in the darkness… they felt like they were glued shut.

My arms felt like 10-pound weights as I brought them up, slowly rubbing the sleep away.

I yawned. My toes pointed while I stretched, my arms grabbing the headboard behind me. I ran my fingers down the designs of the thick hardwood frame…

_Wait. _

I thought I had a steel frame for my headboard.

My eyes shot open. I was drowning in a bulky down comforter. I had to pull the covers off from over my head to see clearly. _That's why it was so dark_, I realized.

I flinched at the small streams of sunlight entering the room because of what they were doing to my headache. At least the shades were down.

Propping myself up by my elbows, I squinted through the dark shadows. I didn't recognize the room.

"Where am I?" I hoarsely whispered. As soon as the words escaped my mouth, it all came coming back to me.

It felt like a hammer was pounding my brain down to small little fragments, leaving me no room to recollect the previous nights events, but I tried.

Dancing… Angela's bachelorette party… the piano bar… John Lennon…

I remembered Eddie…. Smacking that sticker on my ass on top of the piano….James sitting down next to me… James… _oh god_…

"I didn't." I covered my face in my hands, slamming my body back into the comfort of the mysterious bed. _I must have, though_. This certainly wasn't my apartment, or anyone's I knew. I told myself I wasn't a one-night stand girl, and here I was. How did I get here? I didn't remember anything past the fruity cocktail I downed right after the girls left.

I didn't even remember the sex. I racked my brain. Nothing. Not a thing.

_But where was he? _

I turned my head, side to side, and all around me, ignoring the pain momentarily, wondering if he had just been watching me all this time, laughing silently as I made a complete spectacle of myself.

Nope. No one else was in the room. I rubbed my eyes with the palms of my hands, forcing myself to sit up. Reaching over to turn on the bedside lamp, I could see the room more clearly.

_Woah_. This was a really nice apartment.

White crown molding adorned the edges of the high vaulted ceilings. Corinthian columns highlighted the archway into the large master bathroom I could see from the bed. Warm browns decorated the large king sized bed, and I looked behind me to see that the headboard was the same rich chocolate brown of the comforter. The walls were a dusty bluish grey.

It was comfortable, and it surprised me that James would have such good taste when it came to interior design.

Something about it didn't seem quite like home, however. Finally, I realized what it was; no pictures. The walls were bare. Looking around the room again, I noticed a few boxes stacked in the corner, making me wonder if James had just moved to this new place. That would explain the lack of pictures on the walls.

I pulled back the covers even more and swung my legs over the edge of the bed. I felt a slight shiver run up my body as my toes touched down. A rich mahogany stained the floor under my feet. The dark swirls traveling from wall to wall were entrancing; the patterns were artwork in and of itself.

I listened to the pitter patter of my own foot steps as I made my way to the door, gasping when I caught my reflection in the mirror by the door.

I was completely naked.

_Shit._ That was proof right there, wasn't it? _And yet, why couldn't I remember?_ I was panicking. Was James out in the living room? Had he left me altogether? I kind of hoped for the latter, despite the twinge of rejection I would feel if that were the case. Better than facing him with absolutely no recollection of having sex with him….

_Damn it! Where are my clothes? _

I searched everywhere around the room, lifting the covers, searching the floor and underneath the bed, with no results. I blew out an air of frustration.

Whether we had sex or not, there was no way I was just going to walk around the apartment with no clothes on.

Finally, I noticed something white at the edge of the bed. At first glance, I dismissed it as a towel or thin blanket, but when I picked it up, I saw that it was a large robe.

"Perfect," I sighed, weaving my arms through the sleeves of the large terry cloth. I wrapped the belt securely around my waist and walked towards the door. Holding my breath, I gently pulled it open.

There was no sound except for a soft whirring and the sound of dripping water coming from down the hall. A wonderful smell emanated through my nostrils. "Mmm." I took a deep whiff. It was coffee. I followed the smell down the hallway, and my mouth practically dropped to the floor once I was in view of the rest of the apartment. I felt like I was standing at the edge of the earth when I realized I was on the second floor of a very large loft. I ran into a long railing that kept me from falling several feet into the living room beneath me. I just stood gaping.

The entire Seattle cityscape stood in front of me, glass panels spanning the entire wall, probably a good 20 feet tall. Whereas the room I was sleeping in was still dark from the drawn shades, it was quite bright in here, overcast clouds aside. I held onto the railing in front of me for dear life as I descended down the spiral staircase made of wrought iron.

I wound around and around until I finally reached the bottom floor of the loft.

The expansive window was sandwiched between two exposed red brick walls on either side. More hardwood met my bare feet as I continued to pitter-patter across the floor.

The source of the wonderful smell was much closer now, and I breathed deep the smell of fresh coffee.

"Hello?" My voice was still hoarse and I could barely stand the decibel of the sound in my head before it started pounding again. I winced, putting one hand to my forehead in attempts to numb the pain. I listened for an answer. It looked like nobody was home.

From eyelevel, I could see the pieces of furniture and other semblances of "home" more clearly. A flat-screen television, black leather sofas, stainless steel appliances in the kitchen, more boxes…. But what stuck out to me more than anything else, was that instead of a dining table where the dining table was so plainly supposed to go, there sat a large grand piano.

I was drawn to it like a moth to flame, watching how the sunlight cast a glow against the varnish of the deep cherry wood. Approaching closer, I noticed stacks of sheet music littering the stand above the keys, covering the expansive top like the first snowflakes to fall on the ground. I saw that some pieces were covered in an indefinable scrawl, some were completely blank, and some were in phases in-between. A sharpened pencil rested horizontally across the black keys.

Snowballs of sheet music sprinkled the floor beneath and around the piano, and I smiled. It was like an exhibit, a snapshot of composition in its purest form. I liked it.

Sighing, I decided that the best remedy to my headache was to take advantage of the coffee brewing in the kitchen, so I made my way back.

That was when I noticed an empty coffee cup, a glass of water, a bottle of aspirin, a toasted bagel with cream cheese, and a yellow sticky note on the counter next to the hot pot of coffee.

I poured myself a cup of coffee, leaning my hip against the counter as I read the note.

_Thought you might need some of this after last night. _

_Had to leave—work. _

_E_

E? So this wasn't James's apartment I was in. It must have been….Eddie's?

My eyes went wide with shock, letting the mug I was holding full of burning hot coffee slip out of my hands, landing in puzzle pieces and a large brown lake on the tile floor.

"FUCK!" The coffee was giving me third degree burns on my legs and feet, and I hastily set the coffee pot down on the counter. "Ow-ow-ow-ow-ow," I hissed, reaching for the glass of water and splashing it effectively on my exposed skin to reduce the heat.

This didn't make any sense. I remembered specifically that James was the one flirting with me last night, he was the one who asked me to go home with him, bought me all of those drinks….so why was I waking up naked in the middle of someone else's apartment?

I didn't know. I racked my brain for answers that refused to come as I cleaned up the horrific mess I made.

This can't be happening…. I thought I was a girl who wasn't supposed to have one-night stands? Although, if I truly was in Eddie's apartment, it explained things a little better….but why couldn't I remember?

I was gasping in frustration, bordering a panic attack, naked under a bath robe that didn't belong to me, crouching like an idiot next to overpriced kitchen appliances in the middle of an overpriced loft apartment completely alone! With all of the proof in front of me, I could not salvage anything in my mind as to how this all came to be.

I let out a groan of frustration. That was it. My only solution was to find my clothes, get out of here as fast as possible, and somehow forget any of this ever happened. I already forgot the sex, so the rest should be easy, right?

I grabbed the bottle of aspirin, hoping it would satiate at least a fraction of the headache I was experiencing. I poured water directly from the faucet straight into my mouth, not wanting to waste any time, before chugging the water and pills back. Of course, I knew Eddie was already at work, so I wouldn't have to worry about running into him. I assumed he didn't have any roommates, but I didn't want to take my chances. And the sooner I could get out, the sooner I could commence with forgetting. Completely forgetting.

I took one of the bagel halves and stuffed it into my mouth, while searching for my clothes. I saw that there was a laundry room of sorts next to the balcony, and I found success in the dryer, pulling out my outfit from last night. I furrowed my brow trying to figure out where my underwear could possibly be. I went back to the bedroom, and as I suspected, they were hanging by the towel rack in the master bathroom. Was it possible that Eddie was anal-retentive enough that clothes on the floor bothered him to the point where he would wash and hang them himself before, during, or after sex? Improbable.

I blushed and cringed. I didn't even want to know what happened last night that made washing my clothes down to my black thong a necessity.

I pulled on my underwear, and took off the white terry cloth robe before replacing it with the rest of my ensemble.

Shoes?

I searched the floor throughout the entire apartment. I found them neatly placed side by side before the front entrance. As if they had been waiting for my feet all of this time. I slid my heels on.

Almost ready. What else? Oh. Purse.

My purse was on the counter. That one was the easiest to find. I breathed a sigh of relief when I saw my house key safely tucked inside with my wallet.

Should I call a cab? I didn't even know where I was. On the counter, I saw a small stack of unopened letters and bills. Perfect. I'll get the address from his mail. I walked over to the small stack and grabbed the first letter on top.

I read the address on the label, but couldn't seem to get past the first line. _Edward Cullen. _

I gulped.

Not Eddie. Edward Cullen. My mind knew the answer to my question before I could even form the sentence. All of a sudden, Esme's and Masen's voice were circling around in my head like a ferris wheel:

"_My nephew just moved into town—"_

"_Well, wait till you meet my brother, Edward—"_

"_Don't worry about Edward, he's perfectly harmless—"_

Could it be? The same Eddie that had me bend over as he smacked my ass on top of a piano, whose apartment I just spent some unmemorable sexual romp of a night which I couldn't even remember the next morning…was that the same Edward Cullen who was the responsible older brother to my own student? The same Edward who was the nephew of my closest friend at work?

Yes, I admitted grimly. Yes, it was. I had to get out. I had to get out now.

I jotted down a quick note to Edward, apologizing for the broken cup. I jotted down the address to Edward's apartment on a separate post-it note so I could call a cab from outside. I had to get out of the apartment as soon as possible.

I felt like throwing up.

XXXXXXXXXX

**So... the next chapter is the first written by the new tag team! First up is withthevampsofcourse... are you as jazzed as we are?**


	4. Chapter 4

**Okay, guys! Here it is. The first non-Bella-of-the-Ball chapter of piano lessons!**

**Bella's POV, written by withthevampsofcourse.**

**And remember… new and different authors. Not going to be exactly the same…**

_Twilight is not ours._

**Bella**

What happened?

It was my refrain as I hopped into the cab. Clutching my cute little bag and the shreds of my dignity, I sat in the back seat, painfully aware that I looked utterly and completely like a girl who had just spent the night at someone's house and was now doing the cab ride of shame home. I noticed with horror as the driver adjusted his rear-view mirror that I had smeared mascara in the lower corners of each eye, and I tried to discreetly swipe them away. It didn't work.

Clenching my teeth, I ignored the leering driver and vowed that he would get a dollar tip. Judgmental jerk. He dropped me off at my place and I practically threw cash at him as I prepared to make a non-bumbling sprint up the stairs, taking my heels off so I wouldn't kill myself.

I had never been more desperate to not be seen in my life. I just don't _do_ things like that.

I don't have one-night stands. Especially ones that I wished I could remember.

Thankfully, I didn't fumble with my keys as I leaned up against the door, throwing myself into it so that I could get inside that much faster_. I need to talk to Alice. And Rose._

Reaching into my clutch, I gasped as I realized that my phone wasn't there. Did I leave it at the bar?

Oh, God. What if I left it at his place? How could I possibly go back there? _Hi, remember me? We had anonymous sex since you don't know what my name really is. Sorry about breaking your expensive mug and possibly hurling all over you. And if I did/said anything untoward, forgive me; Sex on the Beach and I never have been on the best of terms._

I leaned back up against the door, irritated as hot tears prickled up my sinuses and into my eyes. Dammit. I am never drinking that much again.

And how many times have I said that after a night with my girls?

_I'm getting too old for this crap. Thank God it's Saturday and I don't have class or anything_.

Ugh. But I _do_ have a birthday. And a dinner. A dinner that I'm pretty sure is a set-up.

The last thing that I needed today was to endure polite conversation with my nearest and dearest while half of the table was still hung over from last night's debauchery. Esme had invited everyone in our little circle- her husband, Carlisle- Alice, Rose, Emmett, and Jasper, and of course, her other nephew.

The one who I had just knocked boots with. The one who was so gorgeous that it didn't seem fair to the rest of maledom. The one who fixed me coffee and a bagel. The one who washed my damned chonies and hung them out to dry.

The one who was a skanky, dirty piano player in a dirty piano bar.

How is it that Edward Cullen, womanizing piano bar hottie extraordinaire, is related to both Masen Cullen and Esme Cullen? How did that asshole who took advantage of poor, unsuspecting, overdressed and undersexed English teachers grow up with the same genetic code and moral guidance as his sweet Aunt and adorable brother?

Shaking my head to clear the tears and resentment, I decided to brush off my embarrassment and think about retrieving my phone later; I needed a nap first. And a shower.

I was awakened by the insistent buzzing of my doorbell several hours later. I groaned. _Alice. Rosalie_.

Bleary-eyed and staggering, I made my way to the door. Before I could open it, I heard the two of them arguing on the other side. Unchaining and unlocking the various deadbolts, I swung the door wide and let in my two traitorous best friends. They entered my apartment, both with identical expressions of expectancy and apprehension.

"Well?" Alice said, hands on hips; practically stamping her foot. "What happened? You haven't been answering your phone, so we needed to come and make sure that you weren't involuntarily tied down somewhere."

"Or voluntarily. So, yeah, Bella. Spill," Rosalie said, making her way into my kitchen and diving under my glass-domed cake stand for a cookie. She leaned up against the counter, planting her elbows on it while munching away. I swear, I think half of the reason these girls have stuck with me over the years is because I always have fresh-baked goodies in my house, ready for immediate consumption.

The two of them were grinning at me, waiting for the juicy details of my wild, crazed, sex-filled night o' fun. I'm pretty sure that they have been waiting for this for some time; I wasn't a girl who was known for her one night stands, and whenever they happened, details were required. Too bad I couldn't remember anything.

I slumped down into a chair, putting my face in my hands.

"Aw. Was it bad? He seemed like he would be…. experienced," Rose snickered, spraying cookie crumbs all over my counter. Swiping at them absently, she waggled her eyebrows at me, sweeping her hand in a "continue" gesture. Time to rip off the band-aid.

"Guys-" I started, but I just didn't know how to begin.

Alice came up behind me, rubbing my shoulder. "Bella, how bad could it have been? At least you ended an epic dry spell," she said, and I could hear the grin in her voice.

Still not answering, I sat up a little straighter; I hated this. I hated that I had done what I did. I hated that I was going to have to eventually face the music (ha ha) and see Edward Cullen at my own damned birthday dinner tonight. The point of the one night stand is that you don't have to see the person, ever again, if you didn't want to. Wasn't it?

"Come on, Bella. We want to know. Tell us. James. Hottie Pianist. Dirty talk. All of it. Spill, please. At length. In great detail," Rose said, grabbing for another cookie. I took a deep breath, steeling myself for this conversation.

"Not James."

They blinked at the exact same time. Once.

"Excuse me?" Alice ventured.

"I didn't go home with James."

"Well, that's okay," Alice said, a slight note of disappoint coloring her tone. I knew they meant well, but hell. Just because I don't go around hooking up all over the place…

"Yeah, Bella. I mean, I'm sure he was a player, and why would you want to-"

"I went home with Edward. Eddie."

I saw Rose's jaw drop, and I'm sure Alice had a matching expression behind me.

"The hotter one? Wait. Really?" Rose was all excitement.

"Yep."

"Wooow. Bella! I'm impressed. He was definitely the dirtier of the two. Seriously? This is great!" Alice was jumping behind me, holding on to the chair and shaking me around. I almost laughed at her bubbly exuberance. If we were guys, she'd definitely be high-fiving me right about now.

"So. What was he like? Those long fingers. And that hair. Mm mm mm," Rose said, smacking her lips in satisfaction. _Sigh_. I wished I knew.

Sighing, I just dove in and told them. "Guys- I don't remember a thing."

They didn't believe that. Didn't want to believe that.

"Bella, how can you not? He looks like he definitely knows how to show a girl a good time."

"Look, I'm very hungover right now. I woke up in this strange apartment. I was naked. No clue how I got there. He wasn't even home," I said, total irritation and frustration in my voice. I explained everything- the bagel, my shoes. The note signed "E". My missing phone.

"But that's great! You have an excuse to go back there! Make some memories you can actually tell us about," Rose said, coming over and joining us at the table.

I shook my head. "No. You guys- his name is Edward Cullen."

"And?"

"And he just moved here. To be near his Aunt."

Alice put her hand up to her mouth, but Rose wasn't seeing it.

"So he's a family man. That's good."

I was going to retort, but Alice beat me to it.

"Esme's nephew."

"Bingo."

Rosalie's expression now mimicked Alice's.

"He's related to Esme? Whoa," she said, a now serious expression on her face. I sighed.

"I know. And guys- he's going to be there tonight. But who knows- maybe I'll get lucky and get hit by a train on my way over."

"Shut your mouth; no death wish until I'm far away. I'm going to be in the car with you," Rose said testily. "There's only one thing to do- ensure you've never looked better."

"Rose," I groused. I would've turned to Alice for help, but I knew that was futile. She's much worse about dressing me. In a split second, I mentally prepped myself for yet another session of Chanel.

Or in this case, Dolce. Honestly, I don't know where Alice comes up with this shit. It's like she had a never-ending supply of almost-Bella sized clothes hiding about her person, ready to go in such emergencies as these. I went along with her wide-leg trousers and super low-backed halter, but I insisted on my trusty eight-eyes. My purple velvet Docs always gave me strength, and I had a feeling I'd need it for the evening Esme had planned.

Hours later, we were all gussied up and out the door. Rose insisted on driving my car so that I could "get more courage from Senor Cuervo," but I am swearing off alcohol. For-Ev-Er.

Tripping on the overlong hems of the dressy slacks in my clumpy boots, I got out of the car, self-consciously fixing my hair. Mentally prepping for the face-to-face with the asshole. I started to get a little pissed with every step I took. How _dare_ he take advantage of an obviously incapacitated-beyond-rational-thought girl? How _dare_ he leave without facing her? How _dare_ he grope women in public like that? How _dare_ he be invited to _my_ dinner? How _dare_ he be so hot?

I realized that I was sounding petulant, like I was going to stamp my foot. I defended myself by pointing out that it was my birthday, and I'd be annoyed if I wanted. I'd just have to watch it; Esme went through a lot of trouble to make my favorite meal and invite my nearest, my dearest, and… her nephew.

I would have to be a grown-up about this.

We stepped onto the porch and I stopped short when I saw who was already there, obviously having just rung the doorbell. Looking great from behind in dark-rinsed jeans and a long-sleeved black button-down.

Edward.

Great.

Rose and Alice had stopped chattering the instant I stopped. They looked up and noticed what it was I was staring at, and their faces turned stony. He must've heard us because he turned around and stiffened as soon as our eyes met. His expression hardened and his eyes narrowed ever-so-slightly; he had his lips pressed into a thin, straight horizontal, and his head moved slightly to the left as he greeted us. Or sort of greeted us.

"Ladies."

All three of us nodded, stiffly.

"I would consider it the greatest of favors if you would pretend you've never met me before."

And with that, he turned back to the doo,r which had just opened, revealing Carlisle in a black apron and burgundy oven mitts.

"Edward! Girls! Esme," he called over his shoulder. "They're all here!" He swung the door wide, allowing us in and giving us girls a big hug each. Carlisle was truly one of my favorite people this planet had to offer; a perfect match for Esme. Not only was he a hottie hot doctor, but he was kind. I wanted the two of them to start breeding and populating the world with their genetic perfection.

Esme came bustling out of the kitchen and squealed when she saw us standing there; she got to me first, of course, wrapping her slender arms around me and whispering "happy birthday" into my ear. It was always a comfort to me to have Esme nearby; I regarded her as more of a mother figure than even Renee, and I really would do anything for her. Up to and including enduring this dinner she was throwing in my honor. She gave hugs to Rose and Alice, then turned and practically launched herself at Edward.

"How are you, dear?" She was patting him down, inspecting every inch of him. Sighing, she linked arms with him and brought him over to us girls.

"Ladies, I would like to introduce you to my other nephew, Edward Cullen. Edward, this is Rosalie." Rose stuck her hand out and smirked; _please, God. Let Rose behave for once in her life_.

"Edward," she said, shaking his hand firmly. He grinned at her and flicked an approving eye over her body, like every male has done to her since she was twelve. She raised an eyebrow at him, returning the favor. _Oh, stop flirting. Emmett won't like that too much_. It occurred to me, though, that he was doing it for show. It wasn't like he hadn't seen her before.

"And this is Alice Brandon." Alice was nicer, as always. She disarmed him by hugging him around the waist; her head barely made it to his chest level. He must be as tall as Jasper. He looked surprised for a moment, but then he laughed in delight. It was a lovely sound, the smooth notes of his vibrato bouncing around the cathedral ceiling. I was not at all shocked that Alice could get such a reaction out of an almost-stranger; she had that effect on most people.

Esme then turned to me with a smug expression. "And _this_ is my Bella. Isabella Swan. English teacher extraordinaire. The birthday girl." He stiffened at the introduction and hesitantly put his hand out there; I grasped it and was momentarily taken aback by the static spark that shocked me when our fingers met. It must be dry outside.

"Bella?" Edward's voice was full of… something. Disbelief? Did he not realize it was my birthday or something? I was under the impression that Esme had been talking me up to her esteemed nephew for some time now. Maybe she had neglected to mention the reason she was throwing me a dinner in the first place. Maybe it was possible he never found out I wasn't Angela…

"Well, why don't we all get some drinks? Carlisle? I need to check on the roast." She headed off to the kitchen, stopping to put her hand on Edward's shoulder; he leaned down and listened to her, planting a kiss on the top of her head before she returned to the kitchen.

I realized that I had just vowed to never drink again, but Carlise was handing me a glass filled with brown liquid and I tossed it down my throat, bringing my neck down only to be greeted by the blazing and dark green eyes of one Edward Cullen. He wasn't exactly scowling at me, but his look was borderline hostile. Wow. I must really suck in bed. Or maybe he's irritated that I broke his stupid mug. Maybe I called him "James" on accident?

Esme called out from the kitchen, using the pretense of needing help with dinner to bring Edward over for a conversation. I'm sure she was pulling him away to talk me up, though. I could smell a set-up from a mile away, I'd been on so many of them. _Fat chance, Esme_, I thought sarcastically. _That ship has already sailed. The SS Bella and Edward 4Ever has made its maiden voyage and is lost at sea._

Shaking my head to rid myself of the unbidden images of waking up naked in a stranger's bed, I sat down and let the others wish me a happy birthday. Alice and Rosalie had gone to join their men, and we sat there with our drinks, waiting for a dinner that I know at least I was dreading. What would he be like? I'd heard nothing but good (okay, great) things about this nephew of hers for ages; looking back, I can see that it was all a set up for this very day. Esme had _plans_.

I could hear the tinkling of Esme's laughter followed by the rumble of Edward's low chuckles. Well, at least he's nice to his Aunt. Maybe it's just skanky women in bars that he's rude to. He came striding out of the kitchen and back to us in the living room, and I was caught up by how great he looked. That hair. And those eyes. I almost couldn't stand how well his clothes draped on his body. Most guys would kill to be able to wear dark-colored jeans with such sex appeal. He had rolled up his sleeves to his forearms, and I couldn't help but admire how graceful his hands were; big and strong and still masculine, but his long and slender fingers looked like they were made to play the piano. I had to shake my head to rid me of the reverie, and despite my lukewarm feelings about him as a person, I found myself fervently wishing for what I'm sure wouldn't be the last time that I could remember what had happened last night.

The evening progressed as we waited for dinner, and I sat there with a smile and a glass, nodding and laughing at what I assumed were the appropriate times by taking cues from the others. But what I was doing the entire time was wracking my brain for all Edward-related knowledge that I possessed; I know that his and Masen's father had died in a pretty tragic accident about a year ago, but I didn't know the details; only that Esme was very saddened by the circumstances, even if she never delved into the whys of her brother's untimely death. I remembered now with chagrin that Edward was a music major and had been attending some exclusive music conservatory on several scholarships; I knew that Masen worshipped his older brother and had nothing but the best of things to say about him. I smiled thinking about Masen; he was such a good guy- every inch his Aunt's nephew. He had always been one of the popular kids, and I don't think it was because he was such a good-looking boy_. Good-looking sure does run in the family._

I noticed that Edward would glance at me from time to time, lifting his glass of club soda to his pouty lips while frowning over the ice in my direction. His brow was furrowed slightly in concentration; the few times he caught me staring, the furrow would clear and he'd give me this half-smile smirk thing that simultaneously annoyed me and thrilled me. Dammit. I really wished I could remember what the sex had been like, and it was quite obvious that he did. One of the smiles seemed all-knowing, and it simply irked me that not only did he obviously remember what had happened, but that he was probably imagining it. Right then and there. In his Aunt's living room. In front of me. My eyes narrowed. _No. I am not taking this sitting down._

I went over to him and perched right on the arm of the overstuffed chair he was sprawled out in. His overly long and lean legs were splayed in front of him, all haphazard and inviting. I decided to ignore the major sex factor he was prominently and proudly displaying to the entire room and instead leaned over, murmuring, "It's rude to stare, you know."

"I was just thinking the same thing about you. Did you know that right before you check someone out, you have this habit of self-consciously shaking the ice cubes in your glass and downing your whiskey?"

"Umm. No?" I wasn't sure how to respond to that. His tone wasn't exactly welcoming.

"You do. Don't worry; I don't think anyone else notices. It's obvious they all adore you in this room." Again, the implication that he was less than pleased with my presence was all too clear. I should've just gotten up and tucked tail and hid, but I couldn't. Who the hell does this guy think he is? I just met him last night. I went home with him, blitzed out of my mind. He saved me from making a mistake with one guy and I instead made a mistake with him. He didn't have to be such a condescending ass about it. Was he like this with all of his one-night stands?

"Are you always like this with women you bring to your apartment who are too drunk to function?"

"Do you often find yourself too drunk to function when going home with random guys?"

"Do you make it a habit of getting OCD about the women whose clothes you hand wash?"

He looked like he was going to crack a smile, but his eyebrows drew closer together.

"Are you aware that James is an incorrigible ass and not worthy of the attention he gets?"

"Have you always been this jealous of your co-worker?"

I became aware that Alice was on the other side of the room, silently mouthing at me to "knock it off"; I flicked my head at her, all too aware that I was being a bit immature, but honestly. This guy was bringing out the fight in me; while I figured he was just being a stereotypical "morning-after" jerk, I was still insanely attracted to him. Why? Why was I into this beautiful and talented jackass? Maybe it was because most guys were a little intimidated by my verbal sparring skills, but this one didn't seem to give a rip that I was putting up a fight. Which is hot.

Or maybe I was just going insane with the notion that this was the first guy I'd seen naked in a long time, and I couldn't bring forth the mental image.

He was looking at me strangely; he probably just asked me something, and I probably looked like I was ignoring him, which I wanted to do, but I simply couldn't. He was too compelling for my own good.

"Sorry, I was… having flashbacks. What did you say?"

"Flashbacks?" he snickered. Uh oh. What did that mean? What's with the tone?

"Yeah, you know. Post-traumatic stress and all that."

"So you weren't drunk beyond capacity last night."

"Oh, I wouldn't say that. I shouldn't drink so much."

"You really shouldn't," he said, softly, looking away. He had finally looked beyond me and noticed that everyone in the room was regarding the two of us warily. I suppose we weren't being as quiet as we thought we were; Alice and Rosalie had matching, all-knowing smirks; Jasper, Emmett, and Carlisle all looked amused, and Esme was just smiling indulgently, probably because we were leaning toward each other. Obviously, she hadn't heard our snarky conversation, otherwise she wouldn't look like the cat who had caught the proverbial canary. It was obvious that Esme had set us up, now. I almost wished I had some sort of fallback date to avoid this very situation, but I'll admit. I was having fun. Like I said, most guys gave up on verbal sparring with me; intimidated by the sweet, sarcastic, adorable little English teacher, they were often relegated to "friends" status before any romantic notions could take hold. Such was my life.

But this guy.

With his eyes and his long legs and his amazing apartment and those _fingers_- those fingers that caressed the piano, making the simple, beautiful act of bringing forth music into this tawdry, lewd thing that made me want to take my shirt off. Ugh.

I cannot think about him anymore. He's a jerk. No guy of worth feels drunk strangers up in a public venue and then takes them home to get naked. I don't care how many bagels he cream cheeses for me; he is a womanizer.

Even if he _does_ leave out aspirins for the drunk stranger's hangover.

Carlisle went into the kitchen, and I started to get a little nervous. Feeling everyone's eyes on the two of us wasn't helping with my nerves, and I felt like dinner was going to be a serious test of Bella's ability to remain quiet and polite in an awkward situation.

There were a few minutes of uncomfortable silence; Carlisle was gone, and the others two were studiously avoiding looking over at me and Edward. They probably thought we were getting better acquainted or something, and I could tell by the gleam in Emmett's eye as we met gazes that Rose had just filled him in on what had happened. _Great_. Now I'm going to have to endure innuendo from him all evening.

"Don't worry. I won't say anything. It's not my place to ruin a birthday dinner," Edward whispered into my ear. He had tilted his head up a little, and his untidy hair was brushing against mine, tickling my inner ear. My body wanted to shiver at the almost-contact, but I chose to pout instead. Rude. Seriously, who does he think he is?

"Dinner time!" Esme's sweet voice came chiming out into the living room, and we all got up and gathered around the table in the dining room. It was cheerily decorated; Esme hadn't gone all out, but there were decorations and balloons adorning the sideboard and the walls; I blushed at the effort she had gone through, feeling guilty that I didn't want to be there. Not because I hated the attention (which I did), but because I was absolutely dreading sitting at the same table as a guy I had slept with less than twenty-four hours before; he was on the other side of the table with Emmett and Jasper on either side of me with Alice and Rosalie flanking Edward. Esme and Carlisle were at each end of the table.

Edward was looking at me with a sardonic smile on his face; I raised my eyebrow at him and just decided to take a deep breath and smile right back. Both of his eyebrows raised now, and he opened his mouth to say something when Carlisle cleared his throat, raising his glass.

"I propose a toast- to good friends, good times, and to the Bella, the birthday girl!" We had all raised our glasses and I was blushing because well, that's what I do- when I noticed Edward staring pointedly at me. What did I do now?

"The birthday girl," everyone repeated, and as Jasper and Emmett clinked glasses with me, I saw Edward briefly tilt his glass of wine in my direction, but he didn't take a drink and merely set it on the table. He was delayed in his toast and murmured in his voice that sent my heart rate through the roof, "the birthday girl".

My eyes jerked up when he spoke, completely and involuntarily. We exchanged questioning glances across the table. His turned from questions to burning…. something. And for one brief, intense moment, I forgot that I had a bad night and was celebrating my birthday by reliving my walk of shame with a beautiful specimen of a man. I forgot that I don't do one night stands. I forgot my social security number, my favorite food, and many other important things because I fell into his intensity.

And just like that our infinitesimal gaze was broken by the peal of Alice's laughter; she was delighted witht some lame joke Emmett had made, and like that, I was back. I shook my head ever-so-slightly, trying to clear the almost-moment I had just had with Edward. There was everything and nothing in that little moment- a million questions, some accusations. But mostly lust. At least on my part.

_I guess I'm not getting over this any time soon_. And there was no _way_ I was going to endure ten free piano lessons from this guy. I don't care how many puppy dog eyes Masen tosses at me or how guilty I feel every time I look at Esme- I can't possibly sit on a bench in this guy's apartment and have him lean over me, showing me where to put my fingers…

It was like this as the entire evening passed; I didn't feel the need to make conversation and thankfully, my friends didn't force me to participate. "You okay?" Jasper elbowed me after the dishes were cleared and we were waiting for cake.

"Yeah. I'm just… hungover." I tossed back the rest of the pinot noir I had been drinking, the only alcoholic beverage that I ever drank with regularity. I really ought to swear off the booze completely, but well. The evening practically required it.

Jasper glanced at Edward before saying, "You're sure." It wasn't a question, more like an accusation. Well, I suppose he was all filled in on Bella's misadventures as well. _Thanks, ladies_. Was nothing sacred? I guess not where boyfriends were concerned.

I gave him a withering look and groaned when I overheard Esme whisper to Edward, asking him to go play the birthday song on her piano from the living room. Great.

Everyone got up, bringing their refilled wine glasses with them. I decided to forgo and instead grabbed my glass of water, and I noticed with a small sense of misplaced victory that Edward did the same. Maybe I didn't have the only major hangover here tonight, I thought. We filtered into the living room, but I hung back. As I saw Edward seat himself at the piano like he was born for it, I started having small flashbacks of the previous night. The crawling. Sharing the microphone. Dirty Beatles lyrics. And Edward. Edward with his unbelievable, anime-style hair. His velvety voice. That look of hunger and loathing in his eyes.

Carlisle ushered me over to the piano and made me sit next to Edward on the bench. I was trying not to touch him as we sat there waiting, but it's not as though there was a lot of room there for two people. Without looking at me, he started the beginning chords of the torture while Carlisle and Esme came in, Carlisle balancing a huge cake with about a thousand candles lit up around the edges. Everyone sang to me, and I could kill all of them because with the possible exception of Edward (although who knows, if he was aware of this fact he'd probably do it to annoy me), they all knew that I hated being the center of attention.

I could feel his warm body as he leaned into the keys. The birthday song is relatively simple, but he somehow made it seem like an epic composition. He really did play with abandon, and I could appreciate him for the musician he was as opposed to the condescending ass I had met at the bar. I could see the muscles in his neck straining as he played effortlessly; he made it look so easy, and for one brief moment, I could see myself actually getting lessons from this guy.

Every time he had to press keys in the lower register, his arm would brush against me, and I could tell that I was flushed from it, although to be honest, I'm not sure if it was because of embarrassment or because I was just so damned attracted to the guy. He looked so intense playing the old familiar tune, like he was putting his all into it. I got lost in the play of his fingers as they danced up and down the keyboard, the light tinkling reverberating throughout my body as I felt the vibrations through the floor and through the bench I was sharing with him. Our legs were touching, but I could feel the tense interplay of muscles in his thighs, as though he were desperately trying to keep from pressing into me too much. I let my eyes wander from his dancing, lithe fingers down to his tense thigh muscles, and I spent the next few moments as he finished up the song trying desperately to remember if he wore boxers or briefs. Or- gah- neither. Shaking my head to rid myself of the possibilities, I looked up to discover six smiling faces beaming down at me; most of my best friends were in this room right now. It was lovely, it really was. Even Edward couldn't bring me down just now. I chose to ignore that despite my distaste for the guy's multiple personalities, I was rather attracted to the figure he cut. Especially when that figure was playing for me.

He finished with a flourish of keys and long fingers and finally turned to me, leaning his face into my neck.

"Happy birthday, _Bella_." The warm blast of air against my ear felt amazing and I had to grab the edge of the bench to keep from falling off. I turned to look at him and noticed a smirk playing on the corner of his mouth, and he, too, looked like he was trying not to fall.

_I have a headache._

After opening my gifts, I was shrugging into my coat with a giddy sense of being released from prison. Or at least involuntary community service. Everyone had left except for Edward; he looked like he was waiting for something, but whether it was simply a chance to speak to his aunt alone or to confront me, I'll never know.

He joined Esme and me in the kitchen where she was cleaning the dishes and I was perched up on the counter, sipping a mug of fresh coffee. Edward came up to his Aunt and hugged her from behind; he then playfully pushed her out of the way and rolled up his sleeves, dipping his arms into the soapy water.

"Thank you, dear," Esme said, joining me at the counter and pouring herself a cup of coffee. She leaned her head on my shoulder and the two of us watched her nephew as he skillfully and dutifully washed the entire sink of dishes by hand.

"So, Edward. What have you been doing with yourself lately? You said you were out late last night. Partying with new friends?" she teased.

"Um," he said, blushing lightly down his neck. "I was at a bar?"

"Edward," she said, her voice full of loving condescension. "How many times must I tell you that you're never going to meet a nice girl if you hang out in bars every night?"

"Well, Aunt Esme. You tell me. Where am I supposed to meet these nice girls everyone keeps talking about? I think you're right. You definitely don't meet them in bars." He was teasing me, I could tell. But still.

"It's equally hard to meet a decent guy in a bar. I mean, they're only there for one thing, right?" I tried to keep the acid out of my voice which wasn't too tough since I was choosing to focus on the play of muscles in Edward's soapy arms as he expertly washed and rinsed. Washed and rinsed. Gees. Does he do windows, too? He had tucked a dishtowel into the waistband of his jeans and he should have looked ridiculous because it had chrysanthemums all over it but dammit if he didn't look downright lickable. Sleeves rolled up, elbow-deep in sudsy water. Haphazard hair flopping around and turning me on.

"So, Edward. Did I tell you that Bella is your new student?" I could've killed Esme for that. Now I could see the impossibility of this situation. How do I tell her that I can't possibly do this? How could I break her heart like that?

"Really. Do you have any experience on a piano, Bella?" he smirked. Ooh, the nasty little fucker.

"Yeah, I do. And I must say, I was damned good, too."

"I'll just bet you were."

"People couldn't take their eyes off of me. But you know, I guess I was just born to perform."

"Of that, I have no doubt. It almost sounds like you don't need lessons."

"Oh, I bet you could show me a thing or two. You seem like someone who's had a lot of experience with performing to an audience."

"Oh, I don't know about that one. I play in front of them, if that's what you mean."

"Does it make you happy, putting on that kind of act, then?"

"Happy? Hardly. I mean, there's occasionally women who toss themselves in my direction, but I think everyone knows that chicks dig musicians. It's not me, it's the piano."

"Ah, so now the truth comes out."

"Truth? I never denied it. Sure. I play the piano to get women."

"So does that mean-"

"Children, children." Esme was shaking her head; I think we both sort of forgot she was even there during our sniping back-and-forth. I had leaned forward and he had turned around, leaning against the sink with his wet arms crossed across his chest; he had a glob of suds on his elbow and he managed to look somehow ridiculous and ridiculously appealing all at the same time.

"Look, it's obvious that the two of you don't get along, but I'd really, sincerely appreciate it if you would both go along with the piano lessons. God knows Masen's excited by the prospect, and do you really want to break that kid's heart?" Esme was glowering at the two of us, a dark look on her face as she practically threatened us into submission. We both mumbled, "No, Esme," and her look instantly lightened as she yanked the dishtowel out of Edward's waistband and snapped him in the rear with it.

"Now, scoot, you two. You're making a mess of my kitchen. Arrange your lessons and get on out of here. I love you both." She blew air kisses at us and turned back to her sink.

Neither of us said another word, but he did help me into my coat and held the door open for me as we left; I got into my car and watched as he followed me for a few blocks until turning to go in the direction of his apartment.

I was reminded that I still had to get my cell phone back. Great. It looks like I won't be able to easily rid myself of an embarrassing one night stand for quite some time. Piano lessons, indeed.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

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**Let us know. Good? Bad? We know it's not the same, so keep that in mind. And be kind…**


	5. Chapter 5

**heya, lovies! two updates from me in one day that aren't fake-outs! unheard of!**

**so here's jenniesmith, writing edward. enjoy!**

**Edward**

I pulled up to Esme and Carlisle's house dreading what was to come. I knew that my aunt loved me and wanted what was best, but I had too much on my mind to act completely pleasant throughout a dinner for some lady that worked with Esme. The only thing Esme would tell me was her name-Bella.

_Beautiful_.

Knowing my luck, everything _but_ beautiful was awaiting me on the other side of the door I was standing in front of. I had the dreaded suspicion that I was about to be introduced to a middle-aged single woman who was going to flaunt herself in front of me like all the other women I met at the piano bar. Masen informed me this morning that I was going to be giving Bella piano lessons for her birthday present. I would have to thank him again later for that.

When I moved here, I knew I needed a job and Carlisle suggested that I give piano lessons since that is what I had been doing before. I quit before moving and, truth be told, I did miss it. Whether it was missing the kids that I taught or the moms that brought them in, I couldn't tell you. Nine times out of ten I was giving the lesson so that mom could enjoy the view. On most occasions it wasn't too bad.

I knew the piano lessons weren't going to make ends meet so I decided to look into playing for venues around town. That is when I met James. He seemed to be a nice guy and was recording a demo album with a girl in town. He hooked me up with the studio and I began doing the same. It wasn't bad. I had to do something else, though, because even that wasn't helping to pay the rent.

That is when James suggested I come check out the piano bar he worked at. I went the first night knowing what to expect since I had been to them before, but what I wasn't expecting was for him to pull me on stage and make me play. I had been there every night since. Except for tonight, of course.

I knew that Esme wouldn't approve of me working at the piano bar, so I decided to keep that job a secret. She had to know I was doing something else though because there is no way the little money I made would pay for the apartment I was living in now. The apartment that had been the scene of my babysitting a drunken woman last night. I shook my head attempting to clear my thoughts of Angela and the night that we had. I couldn't believe how totally wasted she got at the bar and the events that followed.

I don't understand why people choose to get so shit-faced that they can't even remember their own name. I am sure that Angela has no recollection of last night and perhaps that is a good thing. It's not that I minded drinking, it was the whole issue of getting so drunk that nothing else mattered and that you put on a fake font. Plus all the dangers that were lurking with the addition of every drink, there was just too much to risk in my opinion.

I saw her when she came into the bar that night. It was hard to miss her. She was with a group of girls who were obviously celebrating something. As the night progressed, everyone in sight found out what that something was. Angela was getting married. We called her on stage as we always do and had a little fun with her. I couldn't imagine my fianceé coming into a place like this and letting someone plaster a sticker across her tits or ass. Yet there I was, doing it to someone else's fianceé.

James had obvious eyes for her all night long, and though I had an attractive one attached to me, I kept my eyes on Angela all night long. I knew what James was capable of and for some reason, I didn't want her to become one of his victims. James came to the bar at one point to get her a drink and I watched as he slipped something into it. I knew that I would have to keep an even closer eye on him just to make sure he didn't try anything.

It didn't take long for him to do just that.

I made my way over and joined in their conversation. Angela was plastered and whatever James had slipped her was making her even more unstable on her feet. I knew I had to get her out of there and luckily Mike, our manager, came over and asked James if he could help him in the office for a minute. I told James I would watch Angela and when the office door was safely shut, I put one arm around her waist and led her to the door.

I prayed the entire way home that she would not puke in my Volvo. It was my pride and joy. The smell of vomit would forever be in there and I would never be able to drive it again. Luckily, or not so luckily, the puking started as we walked into my apartment. I rushed to get her to the bathroom as quickly as I could, but I wasn't fast enough to save her outfit and shoes. I knew that I was going to have to strip her down and I needed to do it quickly so that I could wash her clothes.

I took her shirt off first, trying not to get vomit on her face or in her hair. I did my best not to look at her while I was doing this knowing that I was probably going to like what I saw and not wanting to take advantage of her. I then took off the rest of her clothes and leaned her against my bathroom counter while I got a towel out to wrap her body in.

When I turned around, I felt myself instantly get hard. I shook my head trying not to stare but it was hard not to notice the smooth curves or her body or the fullness of her breasts, or the neatly groomed triangle that I immediately wanted to bury my face in. I took two steps toward her and covered her up with the towel. Her eyes were closed and I knew that she was either close to sleep or already there.

I picked her up bridal-style and took her upstairs, placing her in my bed after pulling back the blanket and sheets. I could sleep on the couch tonight so that she could have some peace even though my body had other ideas. That part of me wanted to crawl in between those sheets and ravish her, but my head knew that she belonged to someone else. What was it about this woman? No woman I had ever met or even dated had done the things to me that she had in the past four hours, and she had barely spoken fifty words to me.

I pulled the covers up and as I did, I pulled the towel from around her, not wanting her to get tangled up in it while she slept. I had no idea if she was a light sleeper or not and I didn't want the chance of her waking up in even more of a panic than I knew she would already.

As I pulled the covers over her chest and tucked her in I felt my body, once again, betray me, and lean down to place a kiss on her forehead.

"Goodnight, beautiful drunk girl," I heard myself whisper before I made my way downstairs to wash her clothes.

After I cleaned her clothes I did my best to sleep. It wasn't that my couch was uncomfortable or that there was too much light in my apartment, it was the fact that there was a beautiful, naked woman in my bed and my body wanted to be there with her. I sat up and made my way over to my piano and was glad that I had shut the double doors to my room. I didn't want to disturb Angela and I knew that the sounds of my baby grand were soothing to me but to someone with a raging hangover, they might not be the same.

I hadn't been able to write music since my dad died. When that happened, I felt as if I had to give up the tedious process of writing to focus on other things, like my brother and my future. I knew that there was no way composing was going to provide for me. But that night when I sat at the piano, the music flowed from my fingers like it hadn't in a long time. I had been trying to compose a new piece for months but only now, at three o'clock in the morning, did it decide to come out. It was a turbulent piece, but I was instantly connected to the parallels of the piece and my life. I stayed up for another two and a half hours working on it before sleep finally came.

The next morning I woke up and left Angela a note before heading out. I wanted to avoid the embarrassment on both of our parts, so I headed down to the studio to finish recording some songs for a local artist. By the time I made it back to my apartment she was gone, but her cell phone was lying in the middle of my den floor. It must have fallen out in all the hustle and bustle of last night.

The sound of a car pulling up into the drive pulled me back into the reality of where I was. As I heard footsteps approach, I turned around and was shocked at who was standing before me. Angela.

Half the bridal party was with her and they didn't seem at all shocked to see me. Did they know who I was all along? That just pissed me off even more.

"Ladies," I said keeping my composure as best I could. "I would consider it the greatest of favors if you would pretend you've never met me before."

The front door opened at that moment and we were greeted by Carlisle wearing a black apron and burgundy oven mitts. I made my way into the house looking for Esme and hoping that tonight would go smoother when Tanya arrived. I called her earlier and asked her to come. I know it probably wasn't the best idea inviting a girl I just met to my aunt's for a dinner for another woman, but I felt like I needed some sense of normalcy.

Not even God himself could have prepared me for the night that lay ahead. I had an out that no one knew about, Tanya. I didn't know how this birthday dinner was going to go and I wanted an easy way out. I knew my aunt would probably get upset that I had invited her, but when I saw who the guests were, I couldn't have cared less about the repercussions of my invitation.

I was introduced to Rosalie and Alice by my aunt but the next introduction is the one that I was dreading.

"And this is my Bella. Isabella Swan. English teacher extraordinaire. The birthday girl."

I heard those words come out of my aunt's mouth, but they didn't register.

"Bella?" I somehow managed to get out. I am sure that she picked up on the slight confusion in my voice from the way her deep brown eyes searched my face.

There was no way this was the Bella whose birthday we were celebrating and who I would be giving piano lessons to.

This was Angela. The woman who came to my piano bar for her bachelorette party.

Not Bella.

I vaguely heard Carlisle offer us drinks and watched in horror as Bella tossed hers down her throat like it was nothing. Had she not gotten enough the night before? How could she even stand to drink after…

Oh, wait. She had no recollection of what happened. I could use this to my advantage.

If she wanted to lie to me about who she was and base our relationship on lies, then two could play that game.

Relationship? What the hell is wrong with me?

We made our way into the dining room where dinner was served and I couldn't help but be transfixed by Bella. She was an exquisite woman who had completely captivated me, but I couldn't begin to understand why. The only times I have seen her, she has been sucking down the alcohol like a fish and I promised myself that I would never succumb to that level of person again. I had been hurt enough by the likes of her. Yet I couldn't stop staring at her. The way her hair laid softy over her shoulders made me want to run my hands through the soft tresses and whisper sweet nothings to her as we made love. Her full, pouty lips only drove me crazy as she lifted the glass yet again to her lips. I was shaken back to reality when she caught me looking. I am sure my face reflected the disgust I had toward her at this moment for the things she was doing.

I've been used to the idea that a pretty face doesn't have a lot to offer in the way of conversation, so when Bella and I had the kind of banter that made everyone watch us like we were at the US Open Final round, I realized that it was possible I had met my match. I also learned a lot in those few minutes of chatting with everyone's Precious Bella; she let me know in no uncertain terms that she was not going to take my criticisms sitting down. Little did she know how much of a turn on that was for me. I couldn't wait to get her one-on-one in our piano lessons. I knew at that point that it was going to be the best couple of lessons I would ever teach because I doubted she would last.

Tanya still hadn't shown up after dinner, and I can only assume that something (or someone) more pressing had her attention. Honestly, I was glad she didn't. As much as I loathed being around Bella, there was nothing I would rather be doing. Thinking back to last night, I realized that this woman had awoken me from a deep sleep. I had been unable to write, unable to sleep, and unable to enjoy much of anything until she puked on me in my apartment.

In short, she scared the shit out of me.

I had dated many woman and been transfixed by many more over the years, but none of them captivated my full attention like Bella. She was beautiful, sassy, a complete vixen, and apparently a true friend. Everyone here was falling all over her, and I made it a point to tell her that snidely during one of our many brief, intense conversations.

After we moved into the living room, Carlisle asked me if I would play "Happy Birthday" so that everyone could sing along. He ushered Bella to sit next to me on the bench and it became quite obvious that she was trying as hard as I was to avoid contact, even though the piano bench seemed to have lost six inches from the last time I sat here. I didn't want her to know that she had any effect on me whatsoever, so I began the chords of the song while Carlisle and Esme came in with a cake in hand. I glanced sideways to get a glimpse of Bella and couldn't help but laugh at the look on her face at the sight of the cake. Esme must have put a hundred candles on it.

I continued to play, all the while ignoring the feel of Bella's body as it lightly brushed against mine. Lucky for me I had played the birthday song enough that it didn't require much concentration on my part, so when I got lost in the feel of her warmth, my fingers took over completing the piece.

I finished with a little extra on the end to slightly show off the fact that I was an accomplished musician and couldn't resist as I leaded over to Bella's neck and whispered, ""Happy birthday, _Bella_." The scent of her hair and skin was enough to drive me mad. She smelled like freesia and strawberries and the combination of those two along with the obvious desire that was in both of our eyes was enough to call little Eddie out to play. I couldn't help but smirk as the look on her face clearly reflected the same, and immediately began to think of anything that would calm me down.

Jim Carrey in Ace Ventura.

Football.

Bella naked in my bed writhing under me.

No, damn it.

Aunt Esme.

And there it went.

The night ended with yet another one of our candid, sexually-charged back-and-forths, except this time Aunt Esme had the privilege of joining in. When she started in on me about being at bars, I could only pray that Bella wouldn't say anything to her about me working there. I would have to thank her later because even though she had plenty of opportunity to do so, she never did.

It was during this conversation that Esme brought up the fact that I would be spending more time with Bella on the weeks and possibly months ahead.

"So, Edward. Did I tell you that Bella is your new student?" I didn't have the heart to tell her that Masen had already informed me of this earlier today, so I decided to have a little fun with Bella instead.

"Really. Do you have any experience on a piano, Bella?" I smirked. The look on her face was priceless.

"Yeah, I do. And I must say, I was damned good, too."

"I'll just bet you were."

"People couldn't take their eyes off of me. But you know, I guess I was just born to perform."

"Of that, I have no doubt. It almost sounds like you don't need lessons."

"Oh, I bet you could show me a thing or two. You seem like someone who's had a lot of experience with performing to an audience."

"Oh, I don't know about that one. I play in front of them, if that's what you mean."

"Does it make you happy, putting on that kind of act, then?"

"Happy? Hardly. I mean, there's occasionally women who toss themselves in my direction, but I think everyone knows that chicks dig musicians. It's not me, it's the piano."

"Ah, so now the truth comes out."

"Truth? I never denied it. Sure. I play the piano to get women."

"So does that mean-"

"Children, children." Esme was shaking her head at us. Judging by the look on Bella's face, she had completely forgotten that Esme was in the room as well. I turned around and leaned against the sink, crossing my arms across my chest while Bella stayed perched on the counter.

"Look, it's obvious that the two of you don't get along, but I'd really, sincerely appreciate it if you would both go along with the piano lessons. God knows Masen's excited by the prospect, and do you really want to break that kid's heart?" Esme was getting a little upset with us and I knew that I wouldn't do anything to hurt her or Masen. They both meant too much to me to even hurt them in the slightest.

And it wasn't that I didn't like Bella, because God did I ever like her. But the only thing that was going through my mind most of tonight is how I wanted to take her back to my apartment and give her a birthday present she wouldn't soon forget.

"No, Esme," Bella and I simultaneously mumbled and the look on her face instantly lightened as she yanked the dishtowel out of my waistband and snapped me in the rear with it.

"Now, scoot, you two. You're making a mess of my kitchen. Arrange your lessons and get on out of here. I love you both." I watched as she blew us both kisses and turned back to her sink.

We remained silent as I helped Bella into her coat and held the door open for her as we made our exit. There was no goodnight, goodbye, or eat shit as we departed.

I realized that we must live in the same direction, but after a few blocks I made my turn toward my apartment and she continued on.

I knew that I would have to get a message to her at some point about her first lesson and when I remembered that her cell phone was still at my apartment, a plan formed in my mind.

This was going to be more fun than I imagined.

"No, Paige. Remember what we talked about last time. You have to release the pedal when you see this sign written in the music," I said as I laid a hand on the eight-year-olds shoulder. She was a cute little girl, but it was nearing the end of our lesson and her concentration was quickly slipping. I couldn't blame her. My concentration was far from this room as well.

I sent Bella's cell phone with Masen the next day and programmed my number into it. I wrote Bella a quick note and told her that I expected her to call me as soon as she got it so that we could set up a time for her first lesson. Bella, however, had other ideas. She sent a text.

_Be there at six_.

I assumed that meant she knew where to come even though she didn't know where she was the other night. She must have paid close attention as she made her way home the next morning.

I wrapped up my lesson with Paige and noticed that Bella had already made her way into my apartment. I didn't even hear the door open.

I showed Paige out and watched as she walked down to her door. Her lessons were the most convenient because she and her mom only lived four doors down from me. I didn't have to worry about her mother hanging out and bothering me while I was trying to teach. That was the one thing I despised about giving lessons.

"Well, I guess we'd better get this show on the road," I said to Bella as I made my way back over to the piano.

I had purchased a beginner's book at the music store earlier because I had the feeling that this was something brand new for the precious Bella Swan.

"Seriously Bella, have you ever played before?" I asked as she made her way over to me, dropping her coat and purse off on the couch.

"No. Music was never my thing. I was too busy reading and…"

"Just as I suspected," I said, cutting her off from her explanation. I wanted to let her know that I was still not in the mood for her games. I didn't want to be overly rude, but I didn't want her to get the wrong idea. So I put my "Edward is Cocky" hat back on and let the games begin.

"Well, then. I guess we better get started," she said as she took a seat on my piano bench. For a split second I thought I detected a hint of hurt in her voice, but when she straightened her back and looked directly in my eyes, I knew she was ready to play.

I dug out the book I had purchased for her and propped it up on the piano, reaching over her slightly.

"Do you know your notes?" She nodded.

"How about anything having to do with time signatures?"

"Yeah… I read it in a book…"

"So you can read music?"

"A little…"

"This isn't like one of those romance novels I am sure you are so accustomed to reading. You have to actually put this to practice, though I am sure someone like you can put those to practice too, right?" I said, looking her directly in the eye.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" She said as she turned her body to face the piano.

I did the same and opened her book to the first page. I watched as her eyes widened ever-so-slightly at the sight before her. I could tell that she had no clue what she was looking at.

"What about this?" I open up to the first page of the book. There were two songs displayed on it, both of them made up of only rests and two different notes. Songs that would be a breeze for anyone who had a basic knowledge of notes and time signatures, as Bella said that she did.

"Okay," she said as she placed her fingers on the keys. To my surprise she got all the notes right. Time signatures were way off, but at least I knew where to go from there.

"Your notes were right, but the time signature was off in both pieces. Apparently, all that reading didn't do you much good," I said as I expertly played through both pieces so that she could hear what they were actually supposed to sound like.

"Try again."

She placed her hands on the keys but before she began to play I had to fix her wrists.

"Hold on a second," I took another deep breath. "Straighten up your wrists. You have them limp and slanted downward… keep that up and you'll have a massive case of carpal tunnel," I said as I grabbed her wrists and fixed them both. For a brief second, our palms touched and I felt an electric current pass between us. I looked up to see if it was just me that felt it, but judging from the look in Bella's eyes I was not.

We both jerked our hands away from each other instantly.

I ran my hand through my hair, which I am sure only made it stand even more on end. I learned long ago that there was no hope for it.

She placed her hands back on the keys and took a second to ensure that her wrists were exactly how I had positioned them on the keys moments ago.

She began to beat out the notes on the keys and I cringed at the harsh tones that were coming from my pride and joy. She seemed to not even notice that she was beating it to death instead of playing it.

"Bella, what has my piano ever done to you?" I asked, trying my hardest not to laugh at the look of concentration across her face. Her eyes were intent on the page and her brow was creased as she continued to pound on the keys.

"What do you mean, Edward? I am playing the notes on the page, aren't I?"

"Um, yeah. But you are beating the hell out of my piano while doing it. You are supposed to play with ease… so ease up."

"I am playing with ease," she said as she crossed her arms across her chest and let out a groan.

"Don't get frustrated. Not everyone can be perfect at something the first time they do it," I said as I covered my mouth trying not to laugh at the look on her face.

"What, like you? I am sure you just sat down at the piano and it all just came to you!" She was practically screaming at me.

"Look Bella, I don't know what I did to you today or any other day for that matter, but there is no need to yell," I said as I crossed my arms to match her stance.

"Edward…" she began as she stood up and scooted around the piano bench. She stood there in front of me, seeming to size me up and noting that I was not backing down.

"Yes, Bella," I said, hoping she would just spit out whatever she had to say.

"Nothing. I think that I have done enough for today. Is this my book?" she asked as she reached back to grab the book off of the piano.

"Yes. You really need to practice your scales until our next week. The notes are the most important part of the music. Maybe you can find some time to squeeze in a little practice between all of your bar visits," I said as I made my way into my kitchen signaling that I was as done as she was.

"What is that supposed to mean?" she said as she marched over to the couch and put her jacket on and grabbed her purse.

"Nothing," I said as I went to stand by the door.

"When do you think you can squeeze me in for another lesson? We have an obligation to your aunt and your brother and I would hate to disappoint them," she said as she joined me by the door.

"I don't know. I have your number. I'll call you."

"I won't hold my breath," she said as she put her hand on the doorknob at the same time I did. Once again the electric shock ran through my body upon our contact.

"Good job today, Bella," I said despite the terseness that we had shared in today's lesson.

"Thanks," she said as she made her way out of my door.

I shut the door behind her and once again found my hand in my hair.

I was completely frustrated both mentally and physically after my time with Bella. Just like the other night at Esme's I found myself in verbal altercations with her that only made me want to rip her clothes off and show her exactly what my lessons should entail.

I also knew that she was probably mad at herself because of her night at my apartment. I don't know if she even remembered throwing up all over herself, me, and my apartment, or not. My guess based on her behavior toward me was that she did not remember any of that and assumed that I had taken advantage of the situation. Not that the thought didn't cross my mind.

I picked up the books and sheet music that were lying around my piano stacking them up on the shelf where they would be housed until my next round of lessons. I found myself sitting at my piano and my fingers resting on top of the keys. I closed my eyes and could faintly smell freesia and strawberries lingering in the air and inhaled every bit of it that I could. My fingers began to gracefully move over the keys and I continued the piece that I had started the other night. I had an idea where this sudden inspiration was coming from and though I didn't want to admit it, I knew that the inclusion of Bella in my life was going to change me in more ways than I wanted to admit. And I was scared shitless.

**spankward, scared shitless. yesssss.**

**so, for those of you who read my other crap, i sure hope you're planning on entering the smutty claus contest! and if you're scratching your head wondering what the hale i'm referring to.... go check out my profile.**

**and let us know if spankward lives up to yer lofty expectations!**


	6. Chapter 6

**we know, it's been a while….**

**so… anyone up to learn the piano?**

**wtvoc: i dedicate this chapter to halojones, the mrs. roper to my chrissy snow. and as always to my lover jandco. she's the uhh… andy samberg to my jorma taccone. that is to say… she definitely makes me jizz in mah pants.**

**ps: i normally don't do this, but i feel like it would enhance yer enjoyment. the piano lesson song is debussy's **_**arabesque no. 1**_**, which I always enjoyed far more than **_**clair de lune**_**. anyway, i had it on repeat the entire time i wrote that part. you can youtube it.**

**Bella**

"So, Miss Swan. Did you enjoy your first piano lesson?" Masen was practically bouncing out of his skin. He was rolling slightly on the balls of his feet, swaying back and forth. His thumbs were hooked under the straps of his backpack at his shoulders, and he had a smug grin on his face. I could practically hear the anticipatory satisfaction in his voice.

I sighed inwardly. Remembering Esme's dire warning about breaking Masen's heart, I plastered on a fake smile.

"Of course, Masen. Your brother is- dedicated."

He laughed then, the laughter of a not-quite-teenager. He was so obviously tickled at the prospect of his brother and favorite teacher in the same room at the same time.

"So why is it that I didn't see you at the apartment, Masen?" I asked as he scooped up my bag. We were walking out to my car, and I was silently thankful that Masen was such a gentleman.

"Oh, I live with Aunt Esme. Edward figured that since he has to work so much that it would be better for me, I guess. Plus, if he ever decides to finish school-" Masen chattered on about his brother, telling me about Edward's piano talent, about how he always used to take Masen out for ice cream when their parents were fighting, and about how when their mother died, he would make up the most ridiculous songs possible to try to cheer Masen up.

As he was happily compiling his list of his brother's good qualities, I added my own. "Hot hot hottie," "best smile in America," "a voice that makes me do my Kegels," "possible misogynist," "Stalin-esque piano dictator," and "condescending a-hole".

"Here you are, Miss Swan," he said, and I realized that we were already at my car. I thanked him, shaking my head as he beamed his big brother's crooked grin at me and trotted off to meet up with some of the other cool kids. _That boy is going to look just like his brother_- I can only hope he won't be as much of a jerk.

As I drove home, all I could think of was how terribly the lesson had gone. It wasn't even a full hour, but I wasn't about to complain. Even if I had paid, there's no way I could have stayed another thirty minutes. For one thing, I couldn't concentrate on what he was saying. His voice was too mesmerizing and in my ear. By the time he had finished explaining the placement of my fingers, I would realize that I hadn't heard his words- only the way he sounded. The smooth, deep resonant tone of his voice- ugh. It was like when a low octave note on the piano is drawn out, ringing. You press down on the pedal to sustain it, and you keep your finger on the gleaming, white key, feeling the vibration through your arm, the faint buzz going up your leg, the two sensations meeting somewhere in the middle. I shivered a little thinking about it.

And then, just as my body would hesitate, not knowing the answer to his question about finger placement- he'd snap and snark- and I'd come crashing down, the foot pedal in my mind pushing back and cutting off the pleasant buzzing.

So rude.

I just couldn't figure him out. He was so sweet to Paige, the girl he had been teaching before me. I watched as he patiently, tenderly exposed her to the amazing potential that might one day exist inside of her. It was obvious the girl adored Edward and not the piano (ditto her mother). Hell, if I were a young girl, I'd probably keep up with my lessons if the teacher looked and acted like that, too.

But when his eyes turned to me and I gave him my best "bygones be bygones" smile of hope, I saw a veil cover the intensity of his jungle-green eyes and he gave me a seriously nasty smile, sweeping his hand aside as he let me in.

My only conclusion?

I was a lousy lay.

And there were only two ways to overcome that stigma- a second chance-

Not happening.

Or- kick _ass_ at piano.

I've always been a sucker for the unlikely. So, ass kicking it was. I was set and determined to improve by the next lesson.

Too bad wedding stuff got in the way. Edward had texted before, saying Saturdays were better for him, so we agreed on a predetermined day rather than constantly texting to fit each other into our schedules. That would be just great- the day before the wedding. I could get nice and humiliated. Then I'd go take advantage of Ben's parent's paying for the open bar, get hammered, and prove my one-night-stand skills with some obscure cousin from the Weber family.

Or perhaps I should return to the Vanilla Bella wine spritzer days. Too much booze has gotten me into trouble of late.

I had fully intended on practicing before Saturday, but what with Angela's sudden bridezilla transformation, I found myself getting prodded into last-minute fittings, going over seating charts, trading thinly-veiled insults with Angela's cousin and sewing tiny silk rosebuds on flower girl baskets, and it was suddenly time for my second lesson. And I hadn't practiced once. And it was obvious.

I was sitting at the bench, my back ramrod-straight. That much I could do.

"Again." Edward wasn't even looking. He had his arms across his chest and he was leaning against the piano, his back to my left. He had his head cocked slightly, poised to hear my blatant errors.

"You need to arch your fingers more."

"You're not even looking," I mumbled, fumbling as I slipped over the keys. I was getting a cramp. We had been going over the same scale for twenty minutes. He wouldn't let me proceed until I "stopped making it sound a really bad horror movie that takes place in the woods" and more like "water flowing down a pebble-lined streambed", whatever the hell that sounded like. But I was growing numb to his insults. Excusing myself to use the restroom, I made my way to the downstairs bathroom. Just outside and in the hallway there was a beautiful black and white photo of a young boy- Masen, I think- sitting on a piano, dripping an enormous ice cream cone all over the shiny surface. I grinned and hoped that it was Edward's piano and that he had gotten really pissed about the stickiness.

"My father," he breathed into my ear, and I jumped about a mile. My hand flew to my chest and I turned, backing into the closed door of the bathroom. He casually palmed the wall above my head and leaned in. I hated how much his proximity was turning me on.

"Oh. You all look so similar," I breathed, cursing my bumbling. Why couldn't I act as calm and indifferent as he was?

Because I wasn't an ass, that's why. He was clearly enjoying my discomfort because he simply didn't look rattled.

My eyes narrowed as I decided right then and there to stop letting him get to me. Keeping my brow slightly furrowed, I smirked right back at him and stepped forward.

"Permission to continue to the bathroom, Mr. Cullen?" I said, making my voice purposefully low and husky. Yessss. His eyes widened and he stepped back in surprise. Ha. I've been watching middle school kids interact for years; bullies didn't take well to confrontation. I can't believe I hadn't thought of that before. Whipping around quickly so that his face got slapped by my long hair, I smoothly stepped into the bathroom and slammed the door in what I hoped was his face and leaned in on the sink, silently cheering myself on for winning that tiny victory.

Of course, I paid for that little stunt. When I returned, he was leaning in the dip of the piano with one arm balancing his body and the other behind his back.

"You still have a half hour, Miss Swan. And I think I have just the thing to keep you on task."

He pulled out an old-fashioned metronome, the kind that ticks away your doom.

Setting it to a brisk pace, he started snapping along with the beat, the sounds of his fingers clicking overpowering the soft, insistent ticking of the time keeper.

Suppressing a huge sigh, I strode to the bench, sat my ass down, and pounded out the same scale. Again. And again.

For the next twenty minutes.

The only words spoken were Edward's.

"Again."

And again.

I began to despise C Major.

After those twenty minutes, he unceremoniously shoved me over with his body as he joined me on the bench.

"I often like to show my students what they can aspire to, and I have no idea your plans for future piano playing. But I've been standing here, wondering at your tenacity. It's pretty impressive. I haven't met anyone as stubborn as you since… well." He looked a little uncomfortable, and I was unsure if it was because he had slightly insulted me or because he had slightly paid me a compliment.

"This is one of my favorites," he said, his lips barely moving as he stared at the empty piano stand, his brow slightly furrowed.

And then _there it was._

I had heard Edward snap at me for my lack of enthusiasm.

I had heard him showing a little girl the real way to do a scale.

I had heard his dirty mouth and Jerry Lee Lewis style of piano playing.

But this…

I needed duct tape to keep my mouth shut.

Unbelievable.

I almost forgave him for an entire week's worth of fuckery for this.

This.

It was water running over a pebble-lined streambed. _This_ is what he meant.

His back wasn't ramrod straight. He looked like he was home.

He didn't need sheet music. His sleeves were rolled up, and I was mesmerized by the interplay of his veins as his hands ran up and down the keyboard, occasionally brushing up against my arm with each press of the keys. His long fingers didn't strain as he played; they were extensions of the instrument beneath him. Singing to me. I glanced up at his face, and upon first inspection there was no emotion, but I realized that this was _how_ he expressed emotion; the worry lines were gone. He was at peace. There was no sarcasm, no chastising. No asshole was apparent. The curling of his fingers, the way that even his _hair_ flowed to the music was just _beautiful_. It was like I was seeing a completely different part of him. He was speaking to me through this song, the sweet run of notes holding me captive, relaxing every tense muscle I had been clenching the entire lesson. I was holding my breath, allowing that nonsensical and childlike feeling that everything would disappear if I made a sound to rule my actions.

The song started to speed up, and I let out my breath. Allowed it to flow with the music, alternating between quickened breathing and holding it all in. I realized he was doing the same, breathing with the speed of the music. For the first time, Edward and I were in sync.

And just like that, it ended. I didn't want to make eye contact with him for fear that I'd see sarcasm and snark again. But I kept my head up.

He paused momentarily after ending the beauty, then he folded his hands in his lap and reluctantly met my eyes. Whatever he saw there, he must not have expected because he held my gaze, a slight furrow marring his perfect face. We stared at each other for a few seconds and he was the first one to break the staring. I would never back down from him, ever again. Not only had he challenged my patience all day, but now he had shown me the man inside the toughened asshole exterior. I had just witnessed the real Edward Cullen, and I would see him again, dammit.

But not just yet. I could see he wouldn't do that again. Not for a while, anyway.

"That's what a real piano player sounds like," he said, turning away from me and lifting himself off the bench.

_It's cool. You made a mistake, Edward. You allowed me to see behind the curtain. Now I know you're not just some hot dirtbag who gets off on torturing his former conquests. And I _will_ show you up one day._

"Same time next week?" I asked, reaching behind me for my purse.

"Of course. Unless you'd like to grace us with your presence tonight?" He smirked at me. Wow. He didn't think I had the stones.

"Is that a request, or a challenge?" I asked, raising my eyebrow at his rudeness. Maybe I should go and see if James wanted to be my date for the wedding. I bet that would piss off Liberace here.

"Consider it an invitation," he said, walking over to the door and opening it for me. Ho ho. An invitation, you say? We'll see, Mr. Cullen.

Without responding, I sailed out of the door and on to my car. I had to go shave and have Alice find me something fantastic to wear.

Hours later, I was back at _Singin' in the Rain_, perched on a stool close to James' piano. I had opted for comfort over sex kitten, and I was sort of regretting it. Both Edward and James were in fine form tonight; there were several bridal parties again, and plenty of brides-to-be getting their asses smacked and their tits grabbed. I cringed, remembering that just a little while ago I was one of those girls.

"So, you couldn't stay away from me, could you?" a voice whispered over my shoulder. I turned and met the gleaming grey eyes of James, who had a drink in each hand. He offered me one and I shook my head, indicating my bottled water. No booze for me tonight. I'd save it for the wedding.

"Well, I was sort of challenged to show up tonight. That one," I said, pointing at Edward, who was currently dueling with Mike, "is giving me piano lessons. He seems to think my musical education is lacking and wants me to see what a real musician sounds like."

"Sounds like our Eddie boy," he laughed, putting his arm around my shoulder. I noticed that Edward was glaring in our direction, so I leaned into James, putting my head on his shoulder. Edward's eyes narrowed and he faltered slightly, missing a note. I grinned in delight. He turned away from us and focused his gaze on the bottle blonde currently gyrating her hips in his face.

"He told me about your lessons, _Bella_," James said, putting great significance on my name. I laughed awkwardly and turned to explain, but he beat me to it.

"Eddie told me all about it. I applaud you, taking one for the team like that. You must be a loyal friend," he said, getting soft and looking impressed. I nearly snorted at his insincere comment. He must be used to his lines working. I know _I_ almost went home with him.

"You know, you really should practice. Show the guy up. He'd hate that," he said, gulping one drink and putting the other on the bar behind him. Suddenly, I had a fantastic idea. It was so awful that it just _had_ to work.

"James. Would you be willing to- oh, never mind. I can't ask you that." I turned my face away and looked down at the ground, twirling a patternless drawing on my thigh with the tip of my finger. I can be charming, too. If only I could call my blushing at will. Guys were such suckers for a bashful girl.

"What is it? You can tell me." He was all concern.

"Could you- do you think you could- help me? Help me practice, I mean? I really want to show Edward up." Best idea, _ever_.

He grinned at me. "Bella, this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship. I would love to help you practice- I'm great at hand placement." Oh, boy.

I reached behind me and grabbed a napkin. "Here," I said, scribbling down my number. "Let's do this sometime next week." I noticed Edward looking at us and grinned. I reached for another napkin and wrote out on it "Here, hotshot. _Guns n Roses_. _Sweet Child o' Mine_." I waltzed over to the stage and slapped the napkin down, issuing a challenge. Without looking at him, I walked back to my stool and settled in toward James' embrace again. Edward picked up the napkin and read it, giving that smirky, Kegel-inducing grin without looking at me. Mike finished up his song and Edward immediately launched into my request.

"This one's for a new student of mine who seems to think that I'm nothing but a hotshot piano player. Well, she's right. But I'm not only a hotshot, darling; I'm also a hottie. Never forget that." And he began to play amidst the whoops and feminine hollers floating around him.

If you think it would be hard to soften an eighties rock anthem into a piano piece, you'd be wrong. I felt like I was getting serenaded as Edward started to sing. He was looking right at me the entire time, his smooth voice and fingers caressing the music and I noticed for the first time ever how sweet the song was. I found myself captivated by him, again. Two times in one day. I'd better watch it lest I forget that this was the same guy who took me home and took advantage of my drunk ass.

When the song ended, I raised an eyebrow and gave him a golf clap. He bowed his head in my direction, saluting me with his glass and gulping it. James was looking from me and then to Edward, a question on his face.

"Are you guys…?" he asked. What a jerk. Like I'd tell him.

"Mortal enemies?" I supplied, sitting up and away from him. I could envision myself being the rope in a tug-of-war between these two, and I can't say it was an unpleasant feeling. It was on the tip of my tongue to ask him to be my date for tomorrow, but I wouldn't ruin Angela's wedding like that.

"Gotta go," I said, cutting off whatever witty retort James had for me. Without another glance at the stage, I grabbed my bag and water, in a sudden rush to get home.

I had a big day tomorrow.

I woke up bright and early; it was a beautiful day, and I was actually looking forward to the wedding. This weekend had been too confusing, and it would be good to dash head-first into an event that had no significance on my personal life except to see a good friend made happy by joining with her love. I wasn't normally this sappy and optimistic, but I was a little giddy as I took my shower and got ready.

Loading my dress and makeup into the car, I drove to the church with a smile. The wind in my hair, the sun in my eyes; a good day, indeed. I didn't even let the sight of Tanya's White Jetta in the parking lot bother me. Jessica and Lauren I could handle; but that cousin of hers was just annoying.

"Pretty girls hate other pretty girls, Bella," Alice was explaining to me. Tanya had not-so-quietly referred to "attention-seeking librarian types on pianos" as she spoke to Lauren, and the two had been staring at me the whole time. Jealous whores. _I noticed you trying to pick up on Edward there, Tanya_. I wonder what she would've said if I told her I had spent the night with him. I had to resist the urge to wander over there and drop heavy hints. I'm not a bitch. Well, not out loud, anyway.

"How does that explain you and Rose then, Alice?" I asked, struggling to tie the halter. Angela had asked for Alice's expertise in picking out bride's maid dresses, and of course, Alice had gone with the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. Flowing and watered-down yellow, I actually felt graceful in the thing. Despite its being completely backless and the heels required for its length, I felt good.

I endured the extensive hair and makeup that I was put through for the next hour or so; I hadn't bothered with anything while getting ready, and I had to hear Alice "tsk" away at the state of my underdone eyebrows and extol the virtues of my eyelashes. I wasn't even listening to her; I was trying to focus on what the gossipy girls were saying in the corner as they got ready. Angela was floating around, nervous as hell and fidgety.

"He's meeting me here. I was going to go home with him last night, but he had to stay after work," Tanya was saying. Great. I can't wait to see what kind of guy she had brought as her date. I sort of wished I wasn't showing up stag, but I've never asked a guy out before, and I wasn't about to start. Although it would've been fun to bring James along. The guy was gorgeous, no doubt; and it would have been hilarious to watch their expressions when I strolled in with the _other_ hot piano guy from the bar.

"Who'd you bring today, Bella?" Tanya asked, suddenly turning to me while slipping into her dress. Naturally, she showed me up in it with her long neck and thin waist. _I will not let her get to me. I won't_.

"Nobody," I replied loftily. "I like to keep my options open." She and Lauren seemed to find that funny, but I decided to shrug it off_. Won't let her get to me. Nope_.

"That's probably smart of you. I mean, not everyone can just go and find a date. I sure did luck out." She was applying lip gloss and pressed her lips together with a pop, eyeing me while looking into her compact. "I admire your ability to just show up to a big thing like this dateless. It sure takes spunk. I know I couldn't do it. Then again, I've never really had to worry about it." _Not getting to me. At all_.

"Yeah, Tanya. We all know you're not the type who can say 'no'. Come on, Ladies. Let's do this thing," Rosalie said, ignoring Tanya's glare. Sometimes I could just kiss Rose.

Before we knew it, we had Angela down the aisle, married, and outdoors in a spray of birdseed. The ceremony had been simple and beautiful, and I found myself daydreaming. Nothing concrete or tangible, just whether Bella would ever get her day in the sun. The meaningless daydreams that all little girls started to have when they came to the realization that they were going to be someone's Plus One one day. I couldn't help it; Ben's earnest face as he recited his vows and Angela's struggle to contain her tears were getting to me. I didn't cry, but only because Alice and I had made a pact to pinch each other when we thought the other was going to mar her mascara. We both got pinched a _lot_ during the ceremony.

I had to shake the daydreams, and I think it was because in those vague, happy scenarios, my faceless guy's hair was a little too bronze, and his eyes were a little too green. Stupid subconscious. Where're the champagne cocktails?

We were standing in the receiving line, getting hugs from random family members and some people I hadn't seen since high school. Some guys were getting a little friendly, and I was wrestling away from an especially grabby former member of the Forks Water Polo Team when I had to suppress a groan.

You have _got_ to be kidding me.

There he was, looking arrestingly handsome in a chocolate brown suit with a crisp, light blue shirt. Great tie. Carefully disheveled hair in place. Smirk at the ready. Sarcastic comment, coming right up.

"Bella," Edward said, coming forward. He stopped right in front of me, and it was the first time I had ever seen him look unsure of himself. He was about two inches away and I was sure he was going to do the weird one-arm hug that I had gotten from most other people I was acquainted with, but he stuck his hand out instead, grasping my clammy hand in his cool one. He looked so good that I lost the ability to speak for a second, which pissed me off. I narrowed my eyes as I looked up at him, totally annoyed that I had to look up so far, he was so tall. And there it was- that smirk- looking down as he raked me over.

"You look great," he said, his eyes looking fierce and wild. I just didn't get this guy.

"Who invited you?" I blurted out before I could stop myself. He hadn't let go of my hand, which was getting clammier while his hand was getting warmer. He was still shaking it up and down, and he had to move forward a little bit as the next person in line impatiently skipped over me to Rosalie; he put his other hand out to steady my shoulder so that I didn't fall, and I suppressed the gasp that was bubbling in my mouth when his body brushed up against my mine.

"Sorry," he murmured, dropping the smirk and stepping back. He let go of my hand, and the cold feeling where we had been touching made me shiver. I rubbed my bare arms as he went on in the receiving line, giving my best fake smile for the next person.

Who invited him? Angela? God, I hoped not. I'd hate to be pissed at the bride before I had to give my speech. But I sincerely doubted she'd invite the guy who-

_Tanya_.

Of course. She was the last of the bridal party in the receiving line, and she grabbed him by the arm and sauntered off before all of the guests had finished walking the line, glancing over her shoulder and giving me a nasty little smile.

So not only would I have to sit with her at the bridal table up on the raised platform, but I'd have to endure my piano torturer as well. I greeted the next dirty old man uncle in line, allowed him to cop a feelski, and then I cheered myself with the thought that if Tanya did something seriously rude, I could let her know how soft Edward's sheets were.

Boy, he was having a bad effect on my ability to remain a nice person.

And I didn't even care. I would have to keep my wits about me all evening. And a champagne flute constantly filled.

When did I turn into such a drunken, bitter old woman?

The other bridesmaids and I filtered into the hall that was beautifully decorated. I'd like to say that as Maid of Honor I had a hand in the wedding planning, but that'd be a lie. Alice was consulted, and probably would have been seriously put out if she hadn't been the first on a short list of people Angela trusted to do this thing right. She had tried to insist on a seriously out-of-range budget that she offered to pay for, but to her credit, she relented when Angela insisted that she wanted a modest wedding. I had never seen anyone stand up to Alice like that, but it's one of the many reasons that I loved Angela. She always stood up for what she thought was right.

"Care to dance?" I heard a voice whisper in my ear. It was Weber Cousin Number 2. Danny or Donnie or some other New Kid. He was cute in that watered-down white boy kind of way, and I gave him a weak smile.

"The DJ hasn't even set up yet," I said. He was such a youngster. I never wanted to float dangerously close to that whole teacher/student relationship. Not that he was in middle school, but I'm sure he had at least graduated high school. Right?

"Save me one then, Miss- Bella." He was trying too hard to be suave, and it didn't escape my notice that he had almost called me Miss Swan. Good lord, I hoped he wasn't some former student of mine. I had only been teaching for a few years, but I supposed it was a possibility…

Shaking off that creepy Mary Kay Letourneau feeling, I smiled and rushed off to the table. I was seated next to Angela, with Rosalie on my right and Alice next to her. Jessica, Lauren, and Tanya sat to the end of the table, and the groomsmen were on my right. I only knew Tyler, the best man, and Eric. The others were cousins or some such relation.

I noticed Edward take a seat at a table not too far from the end of our long platform, somewhat within the vicinity of Tanya but not close enough for her to stake a claim on him. She looked a little piqued at this, and I silently high-fived Edward for pissing her off unintentionally. He seemed to be avoiding the tables with all girls and had seated himself with a bunch of kids. Maybe the guy can only communicate with those on his maturity level? _Stop being mean, Bella_.

I took a gulp of my champagne, loving the burn and feeling the fire of Edward's eyes on me. He looked pissed, for some reason, and I stared back, silently antagonizing him. A warm hand touched my bare shoulder and I smiled up at Tyler- a nice, big, fake smile- because the guy bugged the piss out of me. He had tried unsuccessfully to get me to go to every single dance our high school had to offer, and he never took "no" for an answer. I had to invent several sick relatives, lots of homework assignments and several unavoidable chores in order to get out of going to dances with him, and he never got it. I sincerely hoped-

"So, Bella. You're going to save a dance for me this time, aren't you?" he said, smiling lopsidedly and trying to look enticing. He had gotten more handsome with the years, filling out in the face and adding an inch or two. Tyler wasn't a bad guy, he was just… too persistent. I mean, give a girl some breathing room. Be mysterious. Wearing your heart on your sleeve wasn't necessarily the best form of Spanish Fly around.

"Um. Okay?" I thought the hesitation in my voice was blatant, but he was blissfully unaware. Resigning myself to an evening of lame partners, burning glares from Tanya & Co., and a possible confrontation from a drunken Bella, I gulped the rest of my champagne and decided that for Angela's sake, I'd keep a plaster smiled on my face.

For the next half hour while we waited for the new Mr. and Mrs. Cheney to be announced, I endured just about every male in the room (except Edward) come up to me. I needed a dance card, I got so many "save a dance for me"s.

"Do I have a sign on my head reading 'pity this spinster'?" I asked Alice, who had just been joined by Jasper and Emmett. They all laughed and my brow wrinkled.

"Sure, great. Mock the afflicted. What gives?"

"Bella… have you _seen_ you?" Emmett asked, waggling his eyebrows at me.

"Shut up, Emmett. I'm serious." I was grumpy now. He loved to antagonize me, and I was already cranky to begin with.

"Bella," Jasper said, bringing his hands out. He had grey snakeskin cowboy boots on under that suit he was wearing, and he was the only guy west of the Mississippi that could pull it off. I put my hands out, grasping his fingers as he brought me to my feet. He turned us around so that we were facing the mirrored wall behind us.

"Lovely, clueless Isabella," he said, putting an arm around me.

"What? Jasper, I'm dumb. Spell it out for me," I mumbled, putting my hands on my hips in petulance.

Jasper grabbed my elbows and gently lowered one arm while lifting the other above my head, spinning me around like a father does to his ballerina daughter. He stopped me when I was facing the room again and used his thumb to tilt my chin so that I was looking over my shoulder.

"You, ma'am, have the milkiest, smoothest skin I've ever had the pleasure to look at. M'girl here has beautiful, alabaster cream. But you, darlin', look like fine china." I watched as my fine china turned a faint shade of pink; Jasper wasn't big with the compliments, but whenever he doled them out, they were extravagant and wonderful.

"Yeah, Bells. You're a frickin' hottie," Emmett said, somewhat less eloquently, but just as sweet. I could feel my face prickling with blush and I would've buried it in Jasper's tan-colored suit if Alice hadn't saved me in time, chastising me for almost ruining my make-up.

"Ever the bashful girl," Rosalie tsked, putting her arm around me and rubbing up and down my arms. I stole a glance at myself in the mirror, and sure. I certainly looked different. I don't know about hottie, but the dress sure made my back look great.

Just then, the obnoxious DJ stopped playing "Shout!" to announce the arrival of Ben and Angela. We all turned and clapped, Emmett whooping and Rosalie piercing through the shouting with a whistle that she didn't even need fingers for. The happy couple joined us up on the platform and then dinner was served, people tapping their glasses every five seconds to make the two kiss. Any typical wedding.

The speeches by me and Tyler were made, and I had to keep mine short lest I make a fool of myself. I made sure not to mumble my little tale of knowing Angela for years, of knowing that the two of them were made for each other. Tyler's speech contained several poorly worded, innuendo-laden jokes, and the crowd dutifully laughed, giving us both hearty applause as we toasted the happy couple.

A half-hour later, I had to keep resisting the urge to rest my chin on my upturned palm; I smiled appropriately when spoken to, I kept up a conversation with everyone since I was seated right next to the bride. I laughed at Emmett's bawdy humor, ignored the pointed comments of the girls at the end of our table, allowed Alice to tug at my dress every now and then, and refused the advances of any guy who came to the table. I kept trying to put off a peeved vibe, but that seemed to intrigue them, I guess.

Finally excusing myself to use the restroom, I stumbled across the dance floor and out the side, not-so-nimbly skirting the people shaking their asses on the laid out tiles of wood. I didn't need the bathroom, and I glanced around, not having taken in much of the hotel layout upon arrival. Noticing a bar outside of our ballroom, I made my way over and plopped down on a stool. The guy behind the counter was looking very bartender-ish, swiping at a glass with a rag and looking prepared to listen to my problems.

"Drink, Beautiful? I thought they had open bar in there," he said, chucking his chin at the opened doorway that had the noise of revelry pouring from it.

"Yeah, I just… needed a breather," I finished lamely, reaching down to loosen one of my heels. I let it drop to the floor beneath me and sighed at the relief, so I took the other one off, too.

"So, you in the bridal party?" I noticed "the look", the one that indicated he would be asking me out. Seriously, I should wear backless clothing more often.

"Yep." I didn't want this attention. I wanted to sulk and be a baby. And I was starting to get annoyed by my own attitude.

"Won't your boyfriend be missing you?" he asked casually, and I nearly rolled my eyes. I need to remember that this dress is _magical_, if there's ever a day where I want his much male attention again.

"He will," rumbled Edward from behind me, and I felt the warmth of his hand at the bare part of my waist. I hadn't had enough champagne to make me like the touch, but I certainly didn't hate it.

"Come on, darling. Let's get you back inside," he breathed into my ear, but loudly enough for the bartender to hear it. I tilted my head back so that I could meet his eyes, and there they were. Frisky jungle green, sizing me up and silently begging to just let me be saved by him. I was a little irritated that I wanted the save, too.

I stared at him for a half a second and then leaned forward, my lips almost brushing his ear lobe.

"Sure thing, babe. Whatever the hotshot wants," I breathed right back. I saw the curve of his smirk as I hovered by his ear, not really wanting to see the taunting look on his face. Whatever he was, he sure liked making a fool out of me. But at least he wasn't hitting on me, and for that I was grateful. It was why I let him "rescue" me.

He held my arm as I hopped off the barstool and I was amused at how tall he was when I stood there without shoes on; I barely made it to his chest and I lost my balance trying to slip back into my Louboutins, bumping my nose on his tie. I could feel the rumble in his chest as he laughed softly, and I paused, letting the warmth of his hands on my arms get to me. I had to look up at his face and I scowled at the amusement I saw there, so I remembered that. Remembered to look at him whenever I felt myself slip; I could easily see that if I didn't watch it, I'd feel myself being attracted to him. But that high-and-mighty expression he wore like a badge of honor would bring me down to earth every time, I could tell.

I gained another three inches as I got into my shoes, and he put his hand low on my bare back, leading me to the ballroom where the noise was reaching the stratosphere.

The wedding guests were doing the YMCA, and I was amused to see my nearest and dearest out there, partying hearty as the song ended. I noticed Tanya at the table, scanning the room, probably looking for her date. I suppressed a huge grin when she noticed the two of us, Edward's hand still on my back and his other hand holding my elbow. Her eyes narrowed and she looked furious. Heh heh. Oh well, might as well rub it in. The beginning notes of "Wonderful Tonight", a wedding staple, started to play.

"Wanna dance?" I asked, looking up at him. He looked confused, but then an absolutely, deliciously evil grin lit up his face when he followed my previous gaze to his date and back to me.

"Sure," he shrugged, smirking his smirk and leading me out to the floor. Alice saw the two of us and goggled, elbowing Jasper without taking her gaze away from us. Jasper half-smiled and drawled something into her ear; he then reached out and backhanded Emmett, who turned and mouthed "what the fuck", but stopped when he noticed, too. He pulled Rosalie's face toward us, and I felt like I was on display as Edward gracefully swiveled me from the hand at my elbow and spun me around, pulling me into his arms like he'd been doing it all his life.

He pulled me closer and was humming along with the lyrics. We probably looked the picture of ease, just two people moving to the sexy twang of Eric Clapton and his guitar, but my inner turmoil and annoyance was starting to seep out of my pores. I was feeling petulant and irritated, and I did not want to be swayed by the music and the fact that I was at a wedding, dancing with someone I was annoyingly attracted to.

"What's with the face?" he asked, leaning away to gauge my response. I scowled and made a sound of disgust and he laughed at that; a full-throated, throwing-his-head-back laugh of delight. Which of course only made me more annoyed.

"You… you… mmph." I had no words. I didn't often have no words. Madder.

"Bella… why are you so angry?" he asked, the ghost of amusement still marring his now serious face.

"Stop trying to make me laugh. I am determined to be annoyed," I said, trying to sound haughty but sounding more like a petulant child. He was an excellent dancer; I didn't falter once in my scary heels. We were sort of removed from the others- not on the fringes, because he had led me straight to the center of the dance floor. No, more like everyone else had the good sense to stay away. There was almost a circle around us, people shooting various looks of amusement and several guys shooting Edward daggers that he had managed to get me out on the dance floor. Rose, Alice, Emmett, and Jasper continued to look amazed. I decided to ignore everyone and focus my anger on my wayward piano teacher.

"And why does the Maid of Honor feel the need to be annoyed?" he asked, spinning and dipping me slightly. As he slowly brought me back up, he made it so that he was completely pressed up against me, and I hated that I liked it. I found myself wishing I could remember what our other "dance" had been like before I could stop the thought from forming.

"I hate weddings," I said simply. It was true. I was an errant female; I just hated them. He loved that, though.

"You hate weddings? Isn't this, like, the female _raison d'etre_?" he asked with a smile. He was teasing me now.

"Don't be such a judgmental prick."

"Don't be so hasty to judge."

"Why do you enjoy antagonizing me?"

"Well, you do make it easy."

"Easy to torture? Wow, Mr. Cullen. You really are a sadistic bastard."

He loved that. "True. Actually, I was starting to think I was acting an awful lot like Edward Cullen, the thirteen-year-old."

"Hmm. Are you going to snap my bra?"

"Maybe if you were wearing one." He brought his hand up and sort of brushed his fingertips across my back where my bra would be. I decided to ignore that.

"I'm sure you'll have another opportunity," I said, trying to inject a note of dry amusement in it, but I failed miserably. My voice did that low, husky, scratchy thing it does when I'm feeling exposed.

The song was ending and he was slowly leading me toward the DJ. Never dropping his hand from my back, he leaned over and beckoned to the guy, who leaned forward. They exchanged some words I didn't hear and the DJ guy grinned over at me, nodding enthusiastically.

I raised my eyebrow but said nothing. I almost hoped the song would be something embarrassing that I could mock him for later.

But maybe he was mocking me.

"More Guns n Roses?" I asked, wondering if he was taunting me for my taste for eighties hard rock. The beginning chords and whistling of "Patience" was drifting out of the speakers, and Rosalie and Alice were standing there, shaking their heads at me like it was my idea. I turned to accuse Edward of… something. Anything. But he was all fire in his eyes, his jaw clenched as he continued to twirl me around the dance floor.

"You put me in the mood for it," he murmured. We simply stared at each other, me sort of listening to the lyrics and reading them on his face, he… well, I don't know. I still had no idea what was going on in that head of his. But for the first time… I found myself hoping it was about me, and that it wasn't negative.

**happy new year!**

**we're glad you're enjoying the story. we still talk to bella-of-the-ball, and we're glad she's with us on this! thanks for the love, BB!**


	7. Chapter 7

**Doest thine eyes deceive you?**

**A **_**Piano Lessons**_** update? Gasp!**

**I have no comment on anything except to say "thank you" for having continued interest, and that this story is coming out of hiatus. With a vengeance.**

**Special thanks to jandco, bittenev, jfly, jenndaynumbers, and sensecoalition. They all did a read and served as wonderful sounding boards. Special **_**special**_** thanks to siDEADde, who held my hand. I owe you a jar of deadly nightshade, lovie.**

**Recap, unless you wanna go back and read that last chapter: Bella teacher. Gets spanked atop a piano, wakes up in Edward's apartment with no recollection of what happened. Finds out special piano lessons are being taught by the spanker. Piano lessons don't go well. Angela gets married. Bella dances with Edward to Guns n Roses while Tanya looks bitter.**

**Bella**

"Edward," her voice rang out, drawing out that last syllable like,"Oh, _there_ you are. I've been looking for you!" As if she hadn't been glaring at the two of us from the sidelines, along with everyone else in the reception hall.

"Tanya," he replied curtly, stepping away and dropping my hand. He sort of passed me off to Jasper, who had appeared out of nowhere to claim me for the next dance. He must've seen Tanya march to the DJ and then over to us as I had. I suppressed my grin, suddenly giddy that I had inspired such irritation in her.

"Thanks, B. Seeya at the bar this week, I presume?" Edward's cheek turned up at me before he turned to his partner, his smile and sex eyes burning into me. Asshole. He turned his back before I could reply, whisking Tanya off in circles and twirls.

"Thanks, Jasper," I whispered, wrapping my hands around his warm neck. The little hairs at the back of his head tickled my fingers, but I squeezed tighter and laid my head on his chest, closing my eyes. Tanya had picked a shit song, too. Man, did I love what Celine Dion was doing to Edward's face at that moment. He looked like he was trying very hard to suppress the urge to vomit. Perfect.

Jackass.

I watched the two of them gliding around; Edward really was an excellent dancer, and Tanya was no slouch, either. Nobody cleared the dance floor to accommodate their moves, but everyone was staring as the beautiful, tall, well-matched pair swayed to the sappy love song.

"Listen, girl. You've got to stop letting him get to you. People will think you're in love," Jasper said, amusement and admonition clear in his tone. I tried to step back so I could smack his sternum, but he laughed at my sad effort and squeezed tighter, palming the top of my head and turning us so that I no longer faced the golden couple.

"So, I take it Alice told you what happened." Normally, I would have been mortified that he knew, but this was Jasper. He wasn't your typical male, and if he rejoiced in that Brotherhood way that I had scored, he didn't let on.

"She did. Listen, he's obviously got some issues, but I wouldn't worry about it. Take your stubbornness and turn it into a strength. You just might come out on top of this one."

"Alice told you I like to be on top, too?"

His rich laughter filled the room as he threw his head back, causing several heads to turn our way. I caught a glimpse of those green eyes and smirked in satisfaction. Ha ha, Mr. Cullen. I don't disgust _every_ male in the room.

Just you.

As I swayed slowly, purposefully moving off beat from Celine, I wondered why I let it bother me that I had been used and abused by Edward. I mean, it was obviously my own fault. I'm the one who drank too much; I'm the one who had jumped on the bomb when Angela couldn't climb the stage in front of a roomful of drunken revelers. I was the one who got so plastered I couldn't remember a night of (probable) anonymous sex.

I was the one who had to go and un-anonymous the sex.

I might have loved Esme for being an amazing human being, but I was pretty sure I'd never forgive her for having my one night stand for a nephew. Or for manipulating me into "meeting" him. If she saw wedding bells in our future, she was in for a sad surprise. But I could play nice. Mostly. I'd have to, I still had eight lessons to go.

Celine was mercifully taken over by the "Y.M.C.A", and I made it back to the main table. Most people were tipsy and dancing at that point, so I sat down in a huff, easing off my shoes and watching everyone make a spectacle of themselves. I managed to avoid several more unwanted dance invitations, keeping it to close friends (Emmett, Jasper, Ben) and group things (Bunny Hop, Electric Slide, the usual).

We saw the happy couple off and I swayed out to the parking lot, trying hard not to notice (or care) that _she_ left with _him_.

I tried not to think too much on my fervent wish that I wouldn't have to hear any of the sordid details of that particular pairing later, whether it came from her mouth or his.

The following day was a Sunday, and I lazily rolled out of bed, groping for my Aquafina. Ugh. Definitely better lay off the sauce from now on. I felt like an animal had died right on my tongue. A fuzzy, dirty animal.

After getting showered and tossing on some mostly clean jeans, I dug into my purse for my cell phone. Ever since leaving it at a certain piano instructor's apartment, I had become slightly paranoid about its whereabouts.

I had one new message. I didn't recognize the phone number, so I listened.

It was James.

"Hey there, Tiger. Listen, call me back. I think we should do a one-on-one as soon as possible. Come out to the Bar on Wednesday and we can discuss the details. Until then, Cutie."

Oh, brother. I decided I'd better call him back before he started texting me dirty forwards or something.

"Bella," he answered. I could hear the smile and dirt in his voice. It's what made him such an effective piano bar player, I supposed. I had to smile, too. He was one of those guys that made you feel like you were naked whenever he thought about you. It wasn't necessarily a terrible thing, either.

"Hi, James. Listen, I think we should do my piano lessons at my school. Can you meet me there on say, Wednesdays? Around three? I think we could get the choir room, they don't practice then." I was babbling nervously, playing with my hair. I still wasn't sure the plan would work, but I wanted to try. I didn't know where I stood with Edward, but his condescending attitude made me want to show him up. Somehow, I'd do it. Maybe James was the answer?

There was a niggling voice in my lower brain telling me that this whole thing was a bad idea, but I swatted at it impatiently, my fingers tangling in the snarls in my drying hair.

"Sure, Bella." He sounded like he was placating me. I hope he knew I was serious about the piano lesson, and that he didn't think it was like… a date, or something. We ironed out the details, and I mentally crossed my fingers, hoping that James would be on his best behavior.

The door burst open as I was fixing some tuna salad. I didn't even need to look to know that it was Rose and Alice. I would have been surprised if it were anyone else.

"Well?" Alice demanded. I turned and took a big bite out of my tuna on wheat. Chewing and trying to look pensive, I stared at her and shrugged my shoulders.

"What?" I mumbled through the tunafish.

"Don't be gross, Bella. Swallow it first." Alice marched over and hopped lightly onto my counter, swiping at some errant bread crumbs with a cupped hand.

"That's what she said," Rosalie quipped, straddling a chair and managing to make it look ladylike. The two of them waited patiently while I finished my sandwich. I wasn't exactly sure what they expected to hear, but I assumed it was about Edward and what had happened at the wedding.

"What?" I repeated, tossing my paper towel and the crust corners into the trash. I avoided their gazes by putting away the mayonnaise and rinsing out the tuna can, but they were used to my avoidance strategies and waited until I was finished.

"Don't you 'what' me," Alice said crisply, pursing her lips. Rosalie grinned at Alice before adding, "Yeah, Bella. What was going on there yesterday?"

"I don't know what you two are on about," I replied. I leaned against the sink, scrubbing at my hands and inspecting my nails, trying to gather my thoughts before answering.

"Mr. Sexy Piano Player, dufus," Rose said. She even rolled her eyes for affect.

"Guys… it was just a dance-"

"_Two_ dances," they corrected, in tandem.

"-two dances, and he was just as annoying and-"

"Sexy as ever?" Alice supplied.

"Firm and delicious as you didn't remember?" Rosalie added.

"Oh, ha ha. Look, he saved me from being hit on by some guy, and I felt I owed it to him to dance," I finished, trying to explain the unexplainable. Why had he danced with me twice? "I don't really get him. He's hard to-"

"Stop picturing naked?"

"Keep your hands off of?"

"I'm leaving now," I said, stomping to my bedroom while their laughter followed me. I didn't have anywhere to go, though, and as soon as I returned from a pretend errand of folding towels, they were on me again.

"Does he smell good, Bella? He seems like he would smell like a commercial for Cadillacs or something."

"Don't even act like pissing off Tanya wasn't a special bonus."

"Will you videotape your next piano lesson so we can analyze it?"

"When are we going to _Singin' in the Rain_ again?"

I held up my hands in silent protest, but their piano questions reminded me of a great distracting topic of conversation.

"Did I tell you guys that I'm going to get secret lessons from James?"

"Bella. Bella, Bella, Bella." Rosalie was shaking her head while Alice slapped her hands on her hips, her flashy bangle bracelets clanking against each other.

"What is your motivation for that? Because that James guy was a skeeze. I'm pretty sure he'd fuck you if you simply asked."

"Rosalie!" Gees, she always dropped f-bombs into conversation, and it never failed to raise my ire. Call it the English teacher in me, but I always felt like it was beneath her.

"Oh, don't you 'Rosalie' me. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck." She was lazily flipping through last month's _Rolling Stone_, looking for her current article. "Would you just check this out. I am so amazing, it never fails to astound me." She pulled a Sharpie out of her back pocket and pulled the cap off with her teeth, signing her name with a flourish. Like she always did.

"Did Rosalie tell you that she gets to meet Caleb next week?" Now I needed a distraction from my distraction.

"Shut up." Alice dropped the offended act and swatted the magazine out of Rose's hand. Meeting hot rock stars and talking about vintage Dior were the only two things that could shut Alice Brandon up.

I let the two of them dish on Rosalie's dream gig for a while as I continued cleaning up my mess. I had dumped everything out of my purse before flopping down on my bed after the wedding, and I saw the Mix CD with Angela and Ben's image on it lying on the counter. I already knew what was on the mix tape since I had made the mix myself, but I still picked it up and put it on the shelf with the other albums. The new Mr. and Mrs. Cheney were to be my testament that couples did, in fact, work.

"So, Bella. Nice try, but you're not getting out of it that easily. James. Two piano lessons, two delicious sleazeballs. Dish. Now." Alice grabbed my arm and led me to the couch, pushing me down so that I was flanked by both she and Rosalie. Alice might have been a good five inches shorter than me, but there was no way I could take her in a fight. She probably had hidden tailor's scissors and pins on her person, too.

Reluctantly, I spilled. "I- I thought maybe Edward the Great needed to be put in his place. So I'd, you know. Learn to play on the sly from a guy he doesn't seem to like. Maybe one day, I'll get the opportunity to show him up." I closed my eyes tight, feeling the familiar prickles as I flushed, waiting for the stern admonitions about "not letting a guy drag you down" that were sure to come.

They didn't.

The two of them were silent. So silent that I was sure they had left. I opened my eyes to discover my shoulders were hunched together, and Rosalie and Alice were staring at each other in wonder.

"That is-"

"Bella, you-"

"I don't know what-"

"Bella. We are so _proud_ of you." Alice hugged me as though I had managed to snag a new Sonia Rykiel without her advice or prodding.

"Gee, thanks," I muttered, but I was pleased. I could probably enlist their help, too. Lord knows I'd need it, having to deal weekly with not only my aloof and jerk-y _real_ piano teacher, but my hot, dirty _secret_ one.

"No, really. This is great. Intrigue! Suspense! Sex, bars. Boys. It's like college all over again," Alice said, fake and wistful. She grabbed my wrist and shook my arm up and down.

"Let's take you down to my loft, get you all gussied up."

"Not so fast, Ali. Lessons aren't until Wednesday." I sighed, feeling a headache approaching.

"Better. We need to prep you."

"Get you waxed." Rose had picked up the magazine and was drawing mustaches on the .

"Find you better bras."

"Underwear, too."

"Thongs."

"Well, thongs are very 2001. But the guys always appreciate a thong peeking out over low-backed jeans."

"I'd just as soon go commando."

"You do go commando."

"Emmett gets mad when I wear chonies."

"You're welcome for that, by the way."

"A suggestion for which I will eternally be grateful."

"Guys," I interrupted. "Do I even need to be here?"

"Shut up. We're getting to you. Where was I?" Alice dropped my hand and tapped her chin. "Oh, yes. Bella going _sans les culottes_."

"No, Ali. I am wearing underwear."

Rosalie sighed. "You're so provincial, Bella."

"New topic, please."

"Kay. Can we please go to the loft and find you something new and zippy to wear?"

"I don't do zip, Alice. And no. I'm not dressing up for James."

"Aww. You ruin all of my fun." Alice pretend pouted, sticking out her lip and batting her lashes like a cartoon.

"That might work with clueless and lovestruck history teachers, but the English department has been inured of your manipulative ways," I said crisply. I was enjoying this way too much.

"Fine. The Party Pooper strikes again. Will you at least consent to a new, albeit non-designer, top?" Alice's wheedling face was on, the genuine one, and if I could give her a little bit of happiness by letting her buy me a new shirt, so be it.

"Fine. But I pick the store, and I'm not going near the damned mall. Understand me?"

"Yesssss." Alice jumped up and Rosalie lithely uncrossed her long, Nair-commercial legs, standing and brushing off non-existent dust. I followed my beautiful buddies to the door, grabbing my wallet and wondering once again how I managed to be friends with Beauty and the Beautier. No matter. They loved me, and that was all that mattered.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Before I knew it, Wednesday arrived, and I barely had time to mentally prep for James' arrival when he texted me that he was out in the parking lot. Surreptitiously checking out the staff wandering to and from department meetings and detentions, I grabbed James by the arm and dragged him out to the Performing Arts center. We headed to one of the classrooms that I knew contained a piano, and I sat down at the bench before he could start any funny business.

If he thought we were there for anything other than instruction, he hid it well. Other than an awkward hug (the kind where you think it's a handshake), he acted like a normal guy. For the next hour and a half, James took me through scales and note-reading. He wasn't half bad as a teacher, either. I said as much as we were wrapping things up, and he gave a small smile as he scratched at his ear lobe.

"I actually paid my way through college giving piano lessons to girls at the school," he explained, and when I raised a skeptical eyebrow, he continued, "Hey. It's a great way to get girls. Some of them even learned something." His eyes almost closed when he smiled genuinely, and my answering grin had him chuckling appreciatively.

"What can I say? The ladies love a piano man. Now, are you coming out to the bar tonight? We've got something new and exciting happening." He wouldn't tell me what it was, but he did make me promise that I'd put in an appearance.

"Just for you, James. I'll come for my secret teacher."

"And I love making you come. Seeya later!" He was out the door before I could slap him for his dirty behavior, but who was I kidding? James was fun, even if he was kind of sleazy.

But now that I was going to the bar again… I'd have to prepare myself, both mentally and physically. And emotionally, I suppose.

I briefly considered enlisting the help of my girls, but for some reason, I didn't want to tell them I was going to the bar. It seemed… complicated. I wanted to be able to do this on my own- stand my ground and all that. The thought of Alice barging in and taking over my wardrobe made me smile, though.

I drove home in a rush; it was almost five, and I wanted to have sufficient time to stake out a good spot from which to watch and judge. I burst into my apartment, half expecting Alice, Rose, or both to be waiting, legs crossed and feet tapping impatiently to hear about my afternoon with James. They must've been busy, or maybe taken my veiled threats the previous shopping excursion to stay the hell away. Whatever it was, I was left to my own devices.

I threw some Bagel Bites into the oven and dashed to the shower. I stood under the warmth for a minute, trying to bring forth some catharsis, but all I did was burn my dinner. I am nothing if not consistent.

I burned my fingertips tossing the bites of pizza goodness on a paper plate. As I danced down the hallway to my bedroom, I hummed a wordless tune as I made my way to the closet. I was in a good mood. I was sure this evening would be interesting, and I needed to dress comfortably, if not super sexy. I hesitated as I got to my closet, realizing that sexy clothing options were slim. The crazy tight jeans I had worn that first night were still on the floor, but I couldn't wear those. They still reeked of spilled booze and hasty decisions. Instead, I pulled on my trusty 501s from a vintage expedition Angela and I had embarked on back in high school; they weren't as loose as they were back then, but they did make my ass look fantastic. I didn't want to admit it to myself, but the thought of Edward slapping another sticker there crossed my head as I pulled them on.

Finding a shirt was much harder. I easily discarded t-shirts with ironic statements, but I didn't go for any skanky halters (Alice would have called them "stylish") or tank tops, either. I settled for a cute little hippie-type thing that required no bra, but I wore one anyway. No _way_ was I going to that joint without support and nipple coverage.

I ran my fingers through my drying hair and decided to let it hang loose; no makeup, either. I was lucky to get away with that and I knew it. I always screwed up the eyeliner, anyway. I did decide on some lip gloss, but I had the distinct impression I'd be licking my lips a lot throughout the evening. Whether out of nervousness or flirtation, I wasn't really sure. But it didn't hurt to be prepared, so I stuffed the tube of too-pricey gloss in my pocket, dug my cash and license out of my purse, and put those in my back pocket. I wanted to remain unencumbered for the evening.

I was nervous as I drove to the bar. If I wanted to be honest with myself, I didn't know how to act around Edward, and I really resented the fact that he reduced me to a taller version of my junior high self. I wasn't exactly Miss Popularity in high school or anything, but I wasn't a drunken party girl idiot, nor a total dilettante, either. And Edward just… I wasn't sure how I felt about him, really. Irritated, mostly.

I got there around eight; I had taken much longer staring at my closet than I had anticipated. The noise pouring out the door was pretty impressive, considering it was September and a Wednesday. I steeled myself with a shake of my head, plastering on a smirk and strutting my shit as I walked up to the door.

The bouncer guy outside waved me in; I was a little annoyed as I realized that my arrival was anticipated, but at least I didn't have to stand outside in the chilly fall air.

The wash of slight smoky, definitely boozy haze and dim lighting assaulted me as I made it down the brief, dark hallway. I could practically smell the pheromones; there were no bridal parties, but there certainly were a lot of females. The guys were scattered around the room, sipping their Bud Lights and eyeing the talent as the girls in the room drank their Cosmos and Lemon Drops, shaking their asses and occasionally getting felt up by the dueling pianists.

One of whom was certainly not Edward, James, or Mike.

Was this the thing James wouldn't tell me about?

I had no clue what was going on, but I tossed my shoulders and hair back, ready to take on whatever was going to be thrown at me.

**So originally, this chapter was twice as long. But I decided not to overwhelm you. I promise, though. I'mma update this bitch much faster than once every six months, swear. In fact… you might get another chapter by the weekend. You wanna know who the new guy is, dontcha?**


	8. Chapter 8

**Toldja. Before the weekend.**

**Thank you for still reading. And don't forget, nominations for the Summer Bellies are in full swing. Also… the Indie Twilight Awards are up… check 'em out!**

**To jandco, who I dream about being with forever.**

**To jfly and siDEADde; your advice was sound. Gracias.**

**Okay, New Guy. Who are ya? (PS- No one got it right. No one.)**

**Bella**

Hmm. The new guy looked like a cross between Michael Vartan and Bradley Cooper. I wasn't often into blondes, but this one was yummy. His hair was a study in disarray. He had that perpetual five o'clock shadow thing, and I wanted to just bite his chin, it was so tasty. I was suddenly glad to have put on a cute top, but I regretted the bra decision for a half-second before remembering that I'm not that kind of girl, anyway.

New Guy was up there, banging away to "Hit me baby, one more time" by Britney, and the girls in the crowd were loving every minute of it. There was one exuberant redhead up on his piano, shimmying and gyrating and all kinds of gross –ings. And New Guy was playing to her hip thrusts. I made myself comfortable at the bar, swiveling the stool out so that I faced the drunks. The other piano was empty, so I scanned the room, looking for someone I knew.

"Isn't he a riot?" James was at my ear, whispering intimately and breathing on my neck. I could smell booze and sleaze, but I smiled despite myself. He was a horndog, but at least he was predictable. It was almost comforting.

"Who is he?" I asked out of the corner of my mouth, keeping my eyes on New Guy. He was very into gesticulating, flourishing cascades by swinging his arms out and banging away on the piano. He looked like he was caressing the mic with his overly large bottom lip. More than one woman in the crowd was mesmerized by that sexy maneuver with his mouth, and I made a mental note to slather on lip gloss rather than lick my lips.

"The new guy. Newton injured his wrist. Sprained it from vigorous jacking, or something like that." I was sure he was kidding, but I wouldn't satisfy the dirt bag by laughing. Instead, I pursed my lips and took a sip of my bottled water, my eyes never leaving the flamboyant new piano player.

"Hit me, baby. One," New Guy ripped the backing off of a sticker as the redhead presented herself on her knees, "more," stretched the sticker between fingers pinching each corner, "time." With a satisfying plop, he smoothed the sticker across her chest. Her group of friends squealed and cheered, and he helped her off the piano like a gentleman would, grinning as he grabbed the mic off its stand.

"Where is that yummy- oh, there you are. Tear yourself away from that tasty brunette and get your tight ass to this piano, Jimmy!" I looked over, slightly shocked, as James ruffled my hair and jogged up to the other piano amongst whoops and catcalls.

"It's time to see which one of us is manlier, darling," James purred into the mic. He banged on a few keys and glissed up and down a few times, settling into a rousing version of "Womanizer".

"Tsk. Garrett really seems to have found a straight match in this bar," a high voice said. A cute, chubby blonde hoisted herself onto the stool next to me, sipping something girlie that had pineapples and umbrellas sticking out of it.

"The name's Kate. I already know Garr's going to want to know who 'his' James was hitting on, so I'm being a dutiful little fag hag and getting the skinny on you. You're adorable, by the way. Garrett's going to love you." She spoke clearly and confidently, sticking her hand out at me. I had no choice but to accept it, telling her that I was Bella.

"Beautiful. He'll adore that. Isn't he a dreamboat? That James guy seems like a douche, though. Are you guys dating?" Her eyes darted from James to Garrett to me, sipping on her drink and sporadically singing along with the song.

I paused for a moment before giggling. "Dating? I doubt James dates. No, we're… acquaintances. He told me I wouldn't want to miss out on tonight, but I suspect he just wanted me here for reasons of his own."

"Indeed." Kate sipped thoughtfully before beginning again. "That other guy's hotter, but Garr likes 'em blonde." She scanned the crowd, looking for Edward, presumably. Unless the bar had another hot non-blonde that I hadn't met yet.

"Hey, do you know what happened to Mike?" I asked. I liked this Kate. She was straightforward, kind of reminded me of Rosalie. Except Rose wouldn't be caught dead wearing flip-flops to a night out.

"Yeah, he was trying out a new piano trick or something and sprained his wrist. I don't know, really, I didn't ask. He called me and asked if my gay boyfriend was still around, so here we are." My blank expression made her pause, so she clarified, "Mike's my cousin."

"Ah." I had no other response, really. After a moment of silence, we turned back toward the duelers, who were in the middle of a furiously hot Britney-off. Garrett was finishing it with a ridiculously wonderful version of "Boys".

"Okay, lovelies. It's time for the menfolk to take a brief break, but Eddo the Great will be up shortly to whip your panties into another frenzy." The squeals in the audience were deafening as James and Garrett climbed off the stage, letting women hug and throw themselves at them. Both made their way toward me and Kate, so I straightened up, ready to meet the new hottie. I guess this meant there'd be more men coming to the bar that I couldn't have once word got out about Garrett.

"Darling," Garrett said, pressing a kiss onto the top of Kate's head. She reached out and smoothed his collar while he fixed the part in her hair. They were fussing over each other like an old married couple.

"And who might you be? You're gorge. I was mighty jealous watching James hit on you, but something tells me you won't have him. Good news for me." Garrett's boisterous voice was low-toned and sex. His mannerisms kind of reminded me of Rupert Everett in _My Best Friend's Wedding_, and I wondered at my projecting hot actors on him. Wishful thinking, I suppose.

"This here is Bella, Garrett. She and Edward shoot daggers at each other. It's fun, wait for the show to begin." James put his arm around me and leaned on my side, waving his hand for a drink. The bartender slid over some Jack in a glass and he downed it, swiping at his mouth with his sleeve.

"Oh, really? That I cannot wait for. Eddo seems quite the cool customer. This one makes him all hot, hmm?" Garrett regarded me with a critical eye, holding his chin with his fingertips and indicating I stand with the other hand. I humored him and hopped off the stool, mostly to get away from James' heady, rangy sweat smell. If I were drinking, I probably would've leaned into him.

"Understated. Sexy, but demure. Vintage jeans get you fifty extra points. No purse means sensible and unused to clutter. But the shoes… _tsk_. Teacher? Sexy librarian?"

I put my pointer finger on my nose. "Teacher. Junior high."

"I thought so. You hang out with me and Katie, here, honey. We'll take you shopping."

I groaned in good humor. "But I have an Alice and a Rosalie. They swath me in Chanel and Tinker originals all the time."

"Do tell. I remember the Tinker Spring oh-seven collection like it was prom. Alas, I have to settle for the new fragrance until Tinker condescends to designing clothes for the boys." Garrett was looking me over a second time as I laughed. He was fun.

"Tinker is my best friend, Alice."

His eyes goggled a bit, then a slow grin crept up on one side of his face. "We are having words later, dear Bella," Garrett said, pulling me away from James and holding up four fingers toward the bar. The bartender slid over four shot glasses and filled them with brown liquid. I groaned as Garrett handed me one and clinked his glass with mine.

"To being single, seeing double, and sleeping triple!" James crowed before tossing his back. I grimaced and did the same, feeling the nasty burn. Tequila. Crap.

A sudden cheer went up in the room, and I looked around Garrett and saw that Edward had finally made an appearance, climbing behind the piano and starting off with some bluesy chords before swallowing a mouthful of water. Garrett grinned and gestured for another round to the bartender; Kate and I groaned as we all took the shot glasses, Garrett grabbing his and making his way to the stage.

"I've heard much of the celebrated Edward. Let's hear you play, shall we?" He spoke into the microphone and toasted his glass toward Edward and then the three of us, knocking his shot back and hopping up on his piano. Edward looked where Garrett had indicated and saw us. He sat up straighter and gave a menacing grin before locking eyes with me. His eyes glittered, and he leaned into the microphone and said in his low voice, "What's it gonna be? You guys want a nice little ditty, or something nasty?"

The bar responded with the trademark chant, "Hell yes! Down and dirty!" Edward smirked and saluted, and I knew it was meant for me.

_Why can't I get just one kiss?_

_Why can't I get just one kiss?_

_Maybe some things that I wouldn't miss_

_But I look at your pants and I need a kiss_

So that's how it was going to be. He never took his eyes off me as he continued, turning the already dirty song into a seriously lewd anthem as he asked me why he couldn't get just one fuck. I gulped and reached for my water, the tequila making me tingle in all the right (wrong?) places.

The song was ending and Garrett looked over at James, waggling his eyebrows and putting his hands out, offering the piano. James indicated Garrett should go, so the tall blonde strode through the crowd. I wasn't the only one who watched his ass as he climbed behind the piano.

As soon as Edward finished with the Violent Femmes, Garrett smoothly transitioned into another anthem from the 80s.

"Shot through the heart," he bellowed into the mic, making eye contact with Edward, "and you're to blame," over to me, "Darlin', you give love a bad name." He pointed right at James before diving in, pummeling the keyboard with gusto and getting several girls rushing the stage, singing along and waving their hands in the air.

"Such a drama queen," Kate clucked, spinning around and diving into her purse for Chapstick.

"But isn't that what you love about him?" I chuckled, uncapping my water and taking a big swig. My mouth had gone inexplicably dry when Garrett had singled me out. Some of the drunk patrons had even noticed, craning their necks around to see who Garrett had been pointing at. I hope they assumed it was Kate.

"It is," Kate agreed, smiling broadly when Garrett kicked over at Edward. As Bon Jovi ended, The New Guy smoothly transitioned into "Come a Little Bit Closer," and Edward took the hint, gamely hopping up on Garrett's piano and buffing the shiny top with his ass. This got raucous applause from the crowd and loud hyena braying from the our end of the bar.

I was laughing with Kate, the two of us holding onto each other's arms, her holding up a fistful of dollars at the two men… and then suddenly, Garrett got a wicked look in his eye and pointed right at me.

"Come a little bit closer, Bella, darling," Garrett sang into the microphone, and Edward's head jerked up, again meeting my eyes. He smirked in challenge and flicked his head toward his piano, silently sending me a dare across the crowded, booze-soaked room.

Of course I accepted. Of course.

Catcalls followed me as I made my way across the bar, elbowing and fighting the throng of sweaty, barely-clad bodies as Garrett played a circus-like march. When I got to the front, both Garrett and Edward were looking at me expectantly, each patting the top of their pianos as I stood between them, trying to decide where to go.

I raised my eyebrow at Edward before turning around, holding both hands up in a "what do I do?" sort of gesture. I put one hand out toward Edward and there followed cheers and applause; I leaned toward Garrett and gestured wildly, getting loud hoots and screams. Garrett it was. Turning and sticking my tongue at the a-hole, I put a foot on Garrett's bench and stepped up on top of the piano.

"This is my new friend, Bella. Say hello to Bella, everyone," Garrett said. I felt prickly warmth hit my cheeks, but I decided for once to enjoy the spotlight. Hell, I'd already pranced on top of a piano, right? I tossed my arms up into the air, the warmth of the shots making me tingle with the attention.

"Hi, Bella!" The disjointed greeting made me grin, and Garrett started to tool around with the music, speaking directly to the crowd.

"Now, ladies and gents. I think you all know by now that our little Eddie here is a dirty fucking little birdie, right?" The answering cheers were deafening. "And I've only just met little Bella here, but I'm thinking she just might be a dirty little chickadee as well." More cheers. "So, let's keep that in mind while I'm pretending that I'm singing this to Edward myself. I think maybe I'm singing on her behalf. These two have been fucking across the room all night. It kind of reminds me of a little song about a girl named Nikki." Oh, no he didn't. And oh, fuck. The song. It was impressive that he could pull off this particular Prince tune on the piano. And his _voice_- he would lean up and into it every time the lyric was particularly dirty, pressing into the keys to punctuate the rhythm.

Edward was turned on his bench, relaxed and alternating between staring at me and then Garrett as the song progressed. I was feeling it; feeling the slow, sensual pace, feeling Garrett's raspy throat, feeling the grind of the lyrics. What has he thinking as he watched? I could feel Edward's intense stare as he watched me go from sitting somewhat still atop the piano, to swaying my head and letting my hair hang in curtains around me. Feeling the vibration every time Garrett pounded the insistent chords, the notes buzzing into my body, making my nerves hum and quiver, thrum and shiver. And every tingle was intensified by Edward's indecipherable staring. I felt dirty and incredibly sexy, and I wasn't even dancing or on all fours.

Garrett warbled the last few notes of the song to some serious drunken cheering, and I had just gotten up on my knees to lean over and plant a kiss on his cheek when I felt a slap from behind. Or rather- _on_ my behind. I was going to swivel around and mock-slap Edward when he scooped me away, unceremoniously dumping me on top of his own piano.

"Darling Bella, I feel like I'm vying for your attention, and I don't like it," he said, but he wasn't looking at me. I checked to see if he was looking over at Garrett or even James, but it was hard to tell when I was warm and turned the hell on. My ability to multi-task was compromised because all I could see was Edward. He was a dick; he was a jerk. And I was ready to jump him, right then and there. The part of my brain that knew that to be a bad idea was slowly being drowned out by my increasing heart beat; I could feel the pulsing down my torso, in my thighs. Down behind my knees and in between my toes. And I liked it.

"There's something I've been wanting to say to you, Darling Bella," he said, snapping my attention away from my musing and directly into his eyes. He was putting on one of the headsets that had a mic on it, and I knew I was in trouble. He wanted to be able to move around. I regarded him with raised eyebrows, and he looked right back at me without blinking. He seemed angry, possibly; hungry and annoyed and most definitely interested. I found myself wondering if he had a hard-on, or if he was just playing up to the audience and to James and to Garrett and to piss me off. I wasn't sure which one I preferred, and I was trying to make up my mind to be pissed when he licked the corner of his mouth and let out a breathy, lurid, "Darling Bella, I want your sex."

And George Michael's synthesizers were set to piano as the anthem for safe sex was made decidedly _un_safe when under the long fingers of one Edward Cullen.

I tried to remain cool. I did. I was moving around, dancing for the audience, keeping myself in check so that I wouldn't come undone right there on the piano. I was even growing confident, and that should have been my first clue. I lied out across the width of the piano, Michelle Pfeiffer-style, turning onto my side and facing the crowd. I leaned up on my elbow, mouthing along with the words. And I was doing really, _really_ well until the falsetto bit.

"Every man's got his patience, and here's where mine ends." He had managed to stand up while keeping a steady, repetitive thrum with his hands. I gasped as warmth hit my ear. He sang breathy and low, right into my neck. Indecent, fleeting thoughts assaulted my head when the words registered-

_I want your sex._

His breath hot, making the almost-blonde hairs behind my ear tremor with the very slight, soft caress of his voice.

_I want your love_

I had every intention of turning my head and looking into his eyes; an attempt to break the seeming sex spell I was under. But I couldn't. I was trapped. The slow, steady pulse of the vibrating chords thrumming under me wouldn't let me.

_I want your… sex_

He barely whispered the last bit, but the soft hiss of the "sex" made me want to cross my legs. His lips grazed the bottom of my earlobe, and my head jerked back slightly at the contact. I had never been into public sex, but the way I was feeling at that moment, I would have done anything. Anything. As long as I didn't have to see the judgmental look in his face, I would do whatever he asked me.

I flipped onto my stomach and pushed up so that I was on all fours. _I do believe it's time to turn the tables, Mr. Cullen._

I hopped off the piano and swayed over behind him, putting my hands on his shoulders and running my fingertips down his arms. I could feel the pull of his muscles as he pounded out the rhythm; hear the soft buzz of the microphone as he sang into it; feel the heat of the stage lights, a single drop of sweat racing down his temple. I leaned over his shoulder, putting my lips next to his. He smirked for a second before we sang the next few lines together. My elbow curled as I lifted my hand to run my fingertips across his sweaty scalp, wrapping his tangled locks around my knuckles and pulling his head to the side, giving me access to the mic.

_I swear I won't tease you, won't tell you no lies_

Our voices harmonized well; his, growling and low, mine high and dead-on. I exaggerated licking my lower lip, sticking my tongue out and swiping slowly so that I tasted the salt from the corner of his mouth. I felt his muscles tense underneath my arms and grinned wickedly; _good to know I'm not the only one feeling it._ I could overanalyze how bad an idea this was later. As I was going to bed. Alone.

Edward sang the chorus again… _I want your-_ I stepped up on the bench, putting my palm on top of his head for balance as I climbed up on the piano again, succumbing to the urge to be on all fours, right in front of him.

I waggled my ass right in his face as he sang, and I totally lost track of where I was as I knelt up, palming the back of my neck and gyrating my hips. The crowd was going crazy, getting louder and louder as I slowly lifted my arms in the air. I was vaguely aware of Garrett's catcalls somewhere to my right and I realized that the song was over. Those out in the audience were losing it, loving it. I dropped my arms and grinned, meeting the eyes of James at the back who was looking at me like… I didn't have any clothes on.

I got jerked away from enjoying the admiration by another slap on my ass.

"Well," Edward said, his voice hoarse and husky. "I need to excuse myself so I can pound one out. Care to join me, Darling Bella?" I turned in shock, putting my hand in his as he pulled me off his piano, the disappointed hollering from several of the girls in the room adding to my confusion. I followed Edward off the little stage and out a side door, wondering if I was about to get laid or yelled at or what.

**For those who want to youtube the songs, they are:**

"**You give love a bad name" by Bon Jovi**

"**Add it up" by the Violent Femmes**

"**Darlin' Nikki" by Prince (or the Foo Fighters, works just as well)**

"**I want your sex" by George Michael**

**And as much as I wish I could… the next update should be next week. I can't do double posts on one story too often. I'd die. But I'm glad yer still with me. 3**


	9. Chapter 9

**Happy birthday, sensecoalition! **

Edward was practically dragging me out the door. Before I could even gulp and try to moisten my mouth so I could ask what the hell was going on, I was being pressed into the scratchy brick of the back of the bar.

"That was- interesting," he murmured. His eyes were everywhere but meeting mine; he was studying my hairline, his gaze caressing what I'm sure were greasy, disgusting tangles. I watched as he leaned in, his nose tracing some sweat along my chin. He pulled up and finally met my eyes, moving back as his eyebrows knit closer together.

"In… teresting?" I breathed. He had been about to kiss me, I was sure of it. I didn't know if I was furious at myself for wanting it, or furious that it had _almost_ happened. What the hell were we doing? He hated me. Didn't he? He was a jerky a-hole. Wasn't he?

Hot, Jerky a-hole.

He used one arm to lean on the building behind me, his inner elbow brushing my hair. I fought the urge to either move away or jump on him, keeping still while looking straight at his chest. The rise and fall of his shirt placket briefly hypnotized me, so much that I wasn't sure if seconds had passed or hours or millennia. I was brought back by a frenzy inside the bar; James and Garrett must be riling them up again. I wondered what they thought was going on out here. Probably hot, sweaty sex up against a wall.

Not even close. The faintly sweet/decaying smell of the garbage wafted over, and my stomach tweaked a bit in either revulsion or weird anticipation. Something was happening here; I just wasn't sure what.

I searched inside for that backbone I knew I had and finally met his eyes. They were glittering with something- something dangerous, something I wanted. And then, just like that, they clouded over and his condescending piano teacher face washed out whatever sexual tension had been there.

"Thanks for helping me maintain my image," he smiled, smirking and slowly lifting his free hand to artfully mess up his hair. Wow.

"No problem," I sputtered, finally lifting myself off the wall and under his arm. "Wait. What image am I helping you maintain?"

"Sleazy piano bar player who fucks women indiscriminately." His back was still turned to me, and I ignored the bit of skin revealed where his shirt lifted. He was still leaning against the wall, and the faint glow from a distant streetlight was hitting his hip perfectly. Kind of like a beacon. An annoying, oversexed beacon.

"We can stay out here for a few more minutes. I'd hate for everyone to think you were a two-pump chump," I said, letting cold reality and a cold breeze bring me out of the weird sex abyss I had fallen into. He was just being a dick again. Great. I used my best weapon to counteract the immense and overwhelming let-down I was suddenly feeling: my words.

"So, how was Tanya?"

He coughed and turned around.

"Pardon me?"

"Tanya. I saw you guys leave the reception together. She strikes me as a tiger in the sack."

He was silent for a moment, but then he looked at me, his eyes cold and hard as he considered his answer.

"She wasn't terrible."

Thought so.

Oh well.

He was a guy. He had indiscriminate sex. He'd just said so.

I knew how to act from that moment on. Cold, hard bitch. I still had those lessons to get through.

"Say something that will embarrass me." I stood up straighter, readying myself for whatever it would be.

"Come again?" His eyebrows were expressive and cute when he was confused.

"So I'll look all flushed when we walk back in."

"Ah." He considered my request for a moment before moving up to me. Our bodies were touching, and he looked down into my face for a moment. It had been getting steadily foggier and hazier, and that faint street lamp glow was making a halo around us, our breaths visible because we both had slightly opened mouths. Whether his was from anticipation like mine was, I'm sure I'll never know.

He leaned into my neck again, and I had a fleeting image from what seemed like ages ago- sharing a mic. I want your sex. His sex. Just sex, maybe.

"You have very adorable dimples on your back, just above your ass. Made for my thumbs to press into."

That did it.

He grabbed my hand and pulled me back into the too-hot bar, doing his best to act nonchalant. He dropped my arm as soon as we were in view of everyone, but I followed him because I was too flustered to do much of anything else. I was confused and irritated and turned on. Still.

James and Garrett were in the middle of a riotous duo version of "My Ding-a-ling", and everyone was singing along, clapping and carrying on. I'm sure a few noticed the two of us emerging, but I was too busy looking down at Edward's heels as he strolled in and headed toward the bar. I made my way back to Kate, who was looking mighty impressed.

She put out a cool hand to my cheek and pulled my face up.

"You didn't fuck him, did you?"

I was a little startled and began to say- well, I wasn't sure, really- but she dropped her hand and smiled a small little smile.

"Don't worry, I just have a weird radar for these things. We must hang, dear. Garr's gonna want to know everything about your hot little dynamic." I didn't answer, merely smiling and putting up a weak hand in good-bye. I definitely needed to go home and think things through.

Luckily for me, thinking things through didn't keep me from falling asleep when I got home. I was keyed up, but not mentally. I didn't even shower, simply stripping down and tossing on a shirt. I had stayed out too late, and I had an early class.

There was also a staff meeting that morning, and I plopped down in our usual row, waiting for my donuts and my Esme. I hadn't really spoken to anyone since the wedding except Rose and Alice, and I was missing my friends. That must have been why I was so off lately.

"Bella," Jasper said, shocking me because he got there before either Esme or Emmett.

"Jasper. You're- you're on time. Dressed and everything," I smiled, reaching for ritual donuts. Emmett came bounding in a minute or so later, swinging his keys around his finger.

"Yo, there'd better be an apple fritter in there for me," he said, plopping down on my other side, reaching across and scrounging in Jasper's bag.

I basked in the comfort of two of my favorite boys in the world, giving Esme a warm smile when she sailed in smelling like fresh laundry and sunshine as she took the seat to Jasper's right. She took her glazed old-fashioned and we sat there in camaraderie, snickering and joking and mocking the new tank top policy as the meeting progressed.

"So, Bella. How are things?" Esme was asking me as we walked to our morning classes. The English wing was at the far end of the school, and I stopped briefly at the choir room, ignoring the light guilt I felt at seeing the ghosts of James and Bella sitting at Esme's piano.

"Things are… the same," I said, watching as the students filtered in, waving to the ones I knew.

"You seem… troubled? I'm not sure. Do you need to talk?" Her warm hand on my arm made the guilt increase, and I was on the verge of spilling how much I either couldn't stand her nephew or couldn't stop wondering what he thought of me.

Of course, I laughed it off.

"Troubled? No more so than usual." My uneasy laughter must not have satisfied, because she made me promise I'd come over for dinner soon. I accepted, cursing myself that I hoped _he_ would be there, too.

Saturday kept getting closer, and I was visibly agitated. Alice and Rose kept text-taunting me, asking if I had practiced finger movements and the like. They wanted me to go out that Friday, but I begged off, complaining of papers to grade and a headache. For once, they let it go, and I was preparing for a quiet Friday of obsessing over my non-existent sex life when a furious banging at my door interrupted my pizza or Chinese decision.

"Coming, coming," I hollered out testily, tossing down the takeout menus and grabbing a cardigan to cover my braless-ness.

"Darling," Garrett said, sailing in with Kate in tow. They were carrying grocery bags full of… I didn't even know.

"How- what-" I sputtered, grinning because, well- who couldn't use new friends?

The two of them tossed the bags on my counter and started unloading… snack foods. Ice cream. Booze. Oh, lord.

"You're in the book, darling Bella," Garrett said, patting Kate on the butt and hopping up on the tile. "I took the night off and have been dying to see where the object of Edward and James' lust resides."

I looked away, biting a grin, and walked over to the kitchen. Kate was trying to open a tube of cookie dough while Garrett mimed rude gestures with it. They were laughing and carrying on, and I decided I liked the dynamic it brought to my house.

"Lust? Please. They're just wonderful actors and terrible teases," I pretended to huff, swiping my finger in the dough and licking at it daintily. I looked up and Garrett was looking bemused, Kate skeptical. "What?" Why does no one ever believe me?

"Honey, look," Kate said patiently, finally snatching the Nestle away from Garrett's long fingers and walking over to my kitchen drawers. She opened them haphazardly, slamming them lightly with the side of her hip when she didn't find what she was looking for. I rushed over to the baking tools drawer and grabbed a cookie scoop, turning with a flourish to present it, but she had found the silverware and pulled out three spoons, offering one to each of us. I turned, perplexed, and found Garrett popping the top off of a carton of store brand vanilla ice cream.

With fascination, I watched the two as each took a spoonful of dough and added ice cream to it, simultaneously sticking the spoons in each other's mouths and groaning with indecent pleasure.

"Garr," Kate mock-whispered, elbowing him in the ribs. "I don't think she's ever eaten it raw."

"Oh, I think you're right. Our girl here is very plain Vanilla. Straight-up man on top." He grinned, scooping out another spoonful of ice cream and turning to me with a grin. I blushed at the sex-talk, secretly enjoying it. They were like Rose and Alice, with less f-bombs and more suggestive phrasing.

"I prefer to be on top, thanks," I said testily, making to grab the spoon, but Garrett shoved it in before I could get to it. Wow.

"Mmm," I mumbled around the cold. I was suddenly annoyed that I had never been impatient enough to simply eat the dough. And ice cream? Inspired. I closed my eyes and took the spoon, savoring every last drop.

When I opened my eyes, the two of them had such identical smirks on their faces that they seemed like siblings, despite the swarthy, tall dark and short, squat blonde.

"What now?" I asked, exasperated and reaching for the ice cream.

"I can see what they see in you," Garrett said softly, and that time, he wasn't teasing.

"Why, because I savor what I eat?" I dug in, taking a brainfreeze-inducing spoonful into my mouth and chewing.

"Well, that, yes. Bella, I don't think you're aware of your own sensuality," Kate said, taking a bite from the cookie dough like it was an apple.

I snorted at that one. "Oh, please. It's because I blush too much. If they were really that into me, I'd probably have been invited to lie across their pianos, Tawny Kitaen-style, writhing and carrying on like they're so fond of seeing."

"Bella, Bella, Bella," Garrett said, shaking his head and setting the ice cream down on the counter. "Come here." He indicated I should come closer and I did, standing right in between his legs. He was leaning forward so that we were close to eye level. "I know men. Especially James' type. He's into you, but he won't ever touch you. You're too good for him." Kate snorted and I bristled, but Garrett rubbed my arm. "Hush, she doesn't mean you're snooty. She's talking about me." I looked confused, and he grinned, sitting up while Kate explained.

"James is right up Garr's alley, you see," she said matter-of-factly, rummaging around and producing a bag of sour gummi worms. "He likes 'em dirty." Garrett nodded emphatically, mock-playfully.

"No wonder you work at that particular bar, then," I said, looking away.

"Yes, well. It's all in good fun, right? But let's not talk about James. He's sleazy, in the best of ways. I want to talk about high-and-mighty Eddie, and the crackling spark that lights the air when you two are together."

"He's-" I started, but I couldn't finish my own thought.

What was he?

"Gorge," Kate supplied.

"Unattainable," Garrett added.

"Into you," they said in tandem, and while I agreed with the first two, that one I shook my head at.

"No way, you guys," I stuck the spoon in the carton and walked over to the dining room table where I sat down with a huff. "I, I think…" But I couldn't bring myself to finish.

"What is it, darling?" Garrett said gently, hopping down and coming over to pat my knee. He took the chair next to me and leaned on the table, his chin in his hand and his elbow resting on a placemat. "Tell Uncle Garrett everything."

"Oh, and your Auntie Katie," Kate said, running over and pulling out a chair in front of me.

"Edward and I-" I began, but I didn't know where to start. Not really.

"He's giving me private piano lessons."

"That's no euphemism, I'm gathering," Garrett said lightly. I grinned and continued.

"No, it turns out- no, wait. I'm a junior high English teacher, did you know that?" Both shook their heads "no". So I continued, explaining about Masen and Esme, Angela and Tanya. They nodded in all the right places and gasped in mock horror when I talked about waking up naked.

It was verbal vomit. I kept going, and they had the good sense to not interrupt me as I spewed out my insecurities and anxieties about… nothing, really. And I instantly felt guilty telling these near-strangers about this guy, this confusing guy, when my best friends didn't even know the details. It was oddly liberating, and I was able to look Garrett straight in the eye, waiting for what he had to say about the whole situation.

He stared back at me, honesty plain in his expression as he said, "That's quite a tale, honey."

Kate was nodding in agreement. That's it?

"That's it?"

"What, you wanted an explanation? Edward's a man. He's attracted to you. He picks on you. What's there to explain?"

I leaned back, sighing in disgust. If a guy couldn't explain another guy's motivation to me, I was screwed.

"Explain to me why he's such a confusing douchebag."

"Darling," he clucked, shaking his head like I was slow. "It's classic boy-likes-girl, boy-has-issues, boy-treats-girl-like-crap. Only boy is super hot. You need to make him sweat. And let James go, I feel his experimental phase coming." He knocked back a shot I hadn't realized was there, producing a second and third glass and indicating with a sweep of his hand that I do the same. I shook my head. No more booze for me, even if it's with these two.

"You need to loosen up. Bella's a fun girl, let her out to play," he said tartly, taking my shot and rolling it across his lips one-handed. I ignored the fact that I would normally get turned on by such a slick maneuver and chose to pout instead.

"Oh, stop it. You've obviously got your head up your ass about this, but I choose to ignore it because Katie and Garrett have been too long without some juicy soap operas to watch unfold in front of us. Right, Katie Darling?" Kate nodded emphatically, getting up to arrange some frozen quiches on a cookie sheet. Garrett got up and slapped her on the ass before flipping the oven to 350, clucking at her and berating her kitchen skills. The two argued over how to work the timer until I got up, laughing and shoving them both over.

"I may not be confident about my skills with men, but the kitchen is my domain. So move the fuck over." I was laughing and feeling pretty good; it was nice just hanging out with a pair of people who didn't seem to have any kind of agenda.

After hours of eating complete crap and watching Garrett and Katie regale how they met (Garrett saved her from being hit on by "a total Dexter with a boner" by acting like a jealous boyfriend) in hilarious pantomime, I let the two crash in my living room (mostly because neither was in any condition to drive and because Garrett is a big lump when he's sprawled on the floor). The last thing on my mind when I went to bed around 2 a.m. was the piano lesson I had in the morning.

Which was truly, seriously unfortunate when I woke up ten minutes before I was supposed to be there.

Fuck fuck _fuck_. I had the gross taste of burnt charcoal and dead flesh in my mouth because I had stupidly agreed to smoke cloves with Garr and Kate, and as an added bonus I forgot to brush my teeth. Nasty. I reached over for my phone, repeating "don't be late don't be late" in a near-reverent litany, but of course it was still ten 'til, and I was still screwed.

Sucking in a deep sigh, I flipped the phone open and hit "contacts", scrolling down to the "EC". My thumb hovered over the keypad for a second or two; I wasn't looking forward to his snide remarks when I had just awakened, but I wasn't really one to hem and haw, either. I hit "send".

He answered almost immediately. Didn't he have another student with him?

"Bella," he said, his voice sounding deeper than normal. My body at the reverb his voice made, knocking around my head and pinging down my spine, making my toes curl and my ass clench. Next time, I'm waiting until I've got coffee in my hand before speaking to him.

I had to clear my throat a couple times. I sounded hoarser than usual. Must've been the _Grease_ sing-a-long at 11pm. Gotta love TNT. "Edward, good morning," I rasped, hating how formal I sounded. "Look, I'm really sorry, but I won't be making it this morning." I instinctively cupped the phone when Kate and Garrett came bounding into my room, looking far too chipper for a pair of people who had consumed enough alcohol and sugar to put a diabetic into a coma only a few hours ago.

Edward was saying something and I had to ask him to repeat it. "I said, 'I could have been doing something else, but I assume I'll be seeing you later tonight anyway." Oh, really?

"I actually have plans, thank you. But I promise I won't be late next week. If you want to count this as the fourth lesson, I don't mind." Garrett's face brightened visibly when he realized who I was talking to, and he started mouthing lewd suggestions about what I could be doing while I tried to maintain a straight face. I knew Edward couldn't see me, but I felt like he would be able to hear me. For some reason, it bothered me thinking he might disapprove if I had one of his coworkers in my bed, gay or not.

"I just don't want this to become a habit, Bella," he said, his voice changing pitch again when he said my name. Or maybe it was just my imagination. "It's important to keep up with lessons, and practicing."

"It won't. I mean, I won't. I just had some unexpected company, and I don't want to-"

"Drink that much, ever again!" Kate crowed, and I swear I heard Edward suck in an irritated breath as Garrett let out a giggle.

"Our girl really can't hold in her-"

"Alright, I'll let you go. Bye." He was curt and hung up the phone, just like that. What a jerk. You'd think he'd enjoy the morning off since the lessons were obviously such a pain in the ass for him.

I sat there for about ten seconds, staring at my phone. Garrett and Kate finally stopped giggling enough to notice that I hadn't moved, and Kate adopted a sympathetic face while Garrett sat up on his knees, putting his hands on his hips and looking for all the world like a seriously annoyed Alice.

"What did the prick say now?" he demanded, glaring at me like he wouldn't let it die, ever.

"Nothing," I shrugged. "Told me to keep practicing."

"Ooh, practicing what?" he wanted to know.

"Pi-a-no," I replied, finally setting the phone down and laying back on the bed. I blindly grabbed for my pillow and covered my face with it. "I'm going back to sleep until Monday. Make yourselves at home."

"Who's moving in?" I heard, the voice muffled but unmistakably Rosalie. "Bells, there's a hot man in your bed."

I laughed, feeling a surge of energy that I'd get to introduce my two best friends to my two new ones. It didn't occur to me that there'd be jealousy on anyone's part because Alice and Rose loved fabulous new people as much as any gorgeous, universally loved girls could. I made the introductions and explained how I had met them, and Alice, dressed in a bright yellow pair of daisey dukes, hopped right into Garrett's lap, praising his highlights and asking him about his stylist. Impeccable gaydar, that one.

"Darling, we're best friends already. I hear you're Tink. Fantastic. Do let's talk about how you feel about the explosion of hippie-friendly scarves on today's society. Personally, it couldn't irritate me more than the fact that you can pull off those shorts." Alice's delighted laughter trickled off the walls, acting like a balm on my bruised ego. I had missed this. I had been so wrapped up in my sorry-ass love life lately that I hadn't realized how much I missed my girls.

"Rose, you and Kate have something to talk about," I said, interrupting everyone getting along just fine without Bella. "Rosalie, Katie's mom grew up with Pat Benatar."

"Shut. Up. Shut up. Shut up," Rose said, standing and pointing at Kate. Kate was nodding vigorously, clapping her hands and bouncing on the bed. Alice muttered "here we go" under her breath, and I put my hands behind my head and leaned back on the headboard.

Rose kicked off her ridiculous heels and shook out her hair. She closed her eyes and craned her neck so that she faced the ceiling, revealing the scar under her chin that she got trying to impress some guy by attempting to balance a knife on her palm back in college. Her hips started shifting to the beat in her head, and I could tell by the way she swayed her whole head of hair which song was coming.

"We are young," she whispered, and Garrett hooted, shaking an amused Alice's shoulders and readjusting her on his lap.

"Heartache to heartache, we stand," Rose continued, going on to do the best "whoa whoa whoa whoa whoa whoa whoa whoa whoooooa" I'd heard her pull in years. She continued the song, doing the stiff dance of the whores rebelling from the music video, shimmy and all. We were laughing our asses off, Garrett nearly dropping Alice when it was done. Rosalie bowed to our riotous clapping, grinning and stepping back into her heels.

"I wanna hear about Ms. Benatar," she said, sitting on the edge of the bed and fixing her hair back to a sleek ponytail.

"Wouldn't you rather hear about the continuing saga of Bella and Edward's neve rending sexual tension?" Garrett threw out, casually checking out his nail beds and meeting neither the shocked glare of Rosalie or the indignant, accusatory stare of Alice's.

"Bella. What the-"

"Heyyy, look at the time. I think I'm going to try and find James, see if he'll give me an impromptu lesson," I said hastily, scrambling out of bed before I could be grilled. Great. I was going to hear about this later, and I didn't want to deal with it.

"I guess I really need to call James now," I said to the mirror after locking myself in the bathroom. I was annoyed with my avoidance techniques, but it was a bit much. There wasn't enough room on my tiny bed for all of the personality that was there, most likely discussing how pathetic I was. And I still had to process Garrett's assurances that Edward liked me. I just didn't see it. There was attraction, sure; but there was also something keeping him from crossing that fine line between jerky flirting and actual "wanna go back to my place".

Alice and Rosalie made me promise I'd meet the two of them for brunch the following day. Alice put her hand on my arm and asked if I was okay as she was getting her stuff to leave, and I brushed her off, assuring her that everything was fine. _I'm_ fine.

Sort of.

"Bella," James said, sounding genuinely pleased to hear me over the phone. "This is a nice surprise. I was just heading out for lunch. Care to join me for a sandwich and some sex?" That got me laughing. What a dirtbag. It was kind of refreshing, actually. You gotta love a guy who just doesn't hide who he is.

"Mm, maybe another time. Actually, I was wondering if you'd give me a Saturday lesson as I cancelled on my real teacher," I said.

"Real teacher? Ouch, Bella. That stings. I'm hurt, but I can let it slide if you come over and bring me a hoagie." I got the directions to his apartment and stopped off for his sandwich order. I sincerely hoped he didn't try anything stupid. I might've looked like a creampuff, but the Chief had told me years ago that there was no way he'd let his daughter go off to a hoity-toity fancy college without knowing how to put a guy in a headlock. I knew I could defend myself when needed.

"Hey, gorgeous," James said, opening the door. Hell, but he looked good. He knew it, too. He had that look of a guy who hadn't showered in a few days yet still managed to look respectable. Well, as respectable as a guy wearing a shirt advertising a strip joint could look, anyway. His hair was flat on one side and sticking straight out on the other, and he had a little bit of crust in the corner of one eye. Like an overgrown boy in need of a nice, hot bath. A nice, steamy, hot, long bath.

"Scruffy works for you. Don't shave when you go to work tonight," I said, stepping into his very bachelor apartment. _Goodfellas_ poster, check. Playstation 3, XBOX 360, Wii, and Sega Genesis- check check. Froot Loops and beer cans on the counter. There was a large keyboard and two guitars set up in the living room and clothes tossed all over the place.

"I guess you don't bring the ladies back to your place, huh?" I asked, gingerly putting my bag down on a clean surface. He grinned at me before responding.

"Nah. Most chicks aren't impressed with my bottle cap collection," he said, stretching and yawning and grabbing for the wrapped sandwich I held out to him.

"I love a hot woman with a hot sandwich. Thanks, Bella. So you like 'em scruffy, huh? Noted. For you, James doesn't shave today," he said, taking a big bite and offering me a seat on the couch. He tossed a game controller on the floor and plopped down next to me, offering me a drink and asking about my night.

"What does a beautiful, single teacher do on her evenings off, I wonder?" he said between bites. He had his ankles crossed and on the coffee table, his elbow brushing mine every time he lifted the sandwich to his lips.

"I uh, hung out with friends," I said, purposefully keeping it brief. I knew better than to let this guy in, because next thing I knew, I'd be cleaning his apartment or sprawled out on his bed, and I didn't really like either outcome. Well, I should say I didn't like the aftermath of either outcome.

"Friends, huh? Not… friend? Special friend? Dirty-talkin' piano-playin' friend?" he asked, emphasizing "friend" each time.

"You don't think I was with…" I couldn't say his name. "…with my piano teacher, do you?"

"I don't know. I mean, you guys are all over each other at the bar and I just thought-"

"You thought what? That we were fucking?" I was proud of myself for cursing, and I was both amused and irritated by his questions. What was he doing, gathering information?

"Well, maybe. Edward's mysterious, you're fucking fantastic, and I don't know. There's this spark thing. I know you said you guys hated each other or whatever, but seeing you two together…" he trailed off, leaning down and giving me significant eyebrows.

"Why does everyone say we have this 'thing'? I don't get it. I just… it must be the bar. They put something in the drinks there, I swear."

James had taken a huge bite right then and choked on his sandwich, so I karate chopped his back until he held up a hand in surrender.

"Yeah, that must be it. Come on, let's make with the music." He stood up and grabbed a couple of water bottles out of the fridge before taking my hand and leading me to the folding bench he had set up in front of the Yamaha.

Pointing at the two guitars, I asked if he played them, too.

"No, those are for the legions of chicks I bring back to this place. Yes, I play. My first love, actually," he said, picking up the older looking of the two and strumming a few notes. He lifted his bare foot and put it up next to me on the bench, adjusting the tuners before starting up a song.

I rolled my eyes when I heard the chords because Bono annoys the crap out of me, but I kept my sarcasm to myself and listened as James wowed me with his guitar skills.

"You say you want diamonds and ring of gold," he half-whispered, purposefully making his voice rasp and sounding sexy as hell doing it. Shit, I might need to change my stance on U2.

I found my neck relaxing; I was actually pretty tense, but I had this urge to just let go, so my head fell onto my shoulder as I watched him playing. His stripper tee had pilled a little, it was so old. I was conscious of the slight rhythm he was tapping out on my seat, but it was subtle, soft; it made the bench sway a little, creaking slightly with the movement. The hems on his jeans were frayed and I noticed he had that tan line from flip flops across the tops of his feet, making them look almost dirty in places. I could see the sinews of his bones as the dirt-tan skin stretched, his toes curling slightly as he kept balance.

It occurred to me that I must have spent most of my time at _Singin' in the Rain_ by staring at Edward because I had never really noticed how sensual James was when he sang. While Edward's lips were this tasty shade of red in this middle, like he had just been eating raspberries fresh from the bush in the summer sun, James had one of those mouths that looked perpetually moistened, even though he never seemed to be licking them. The slightly larger bottom lip seemed swollen, inflamed; there was that sheen that came from spending time outside, the kind you see on swimmers and surfers. James here was an outdoors kind of guy, and that would explain the perpetual grit.

He had a thin scar angled sideways on his chin; the white, healed skin was a stark contrast to the overgrow stubble growing around it, like scorched earth burning a path through a field of wheat. He had the kind of beard that went down his neck, and I entertained myself by listening to his morning voice, imagining the sound coming out of the pores in the skin on his throat, becoming raspier as it scratched its way out, making him itchy, making him need a nice, good set of nails to relieve him of the itch. I could see the tiny vibrations his voice box made as he continued singing the simple song, the interplay as his neck skin swayed and juggled around, up and down, pausing only to buzz and rasp and then gulp as he took a breath to prepare for the final guitar riffs.

It hit me somewhere during my contemplation of his neck that James might be trying, once again, to get into my pants. But as he strummed along and really got into it, I saw the moment- that one moment that was simple and true- when for one small instant, I wasn't even in the room with him. He truly loved his guitar, and I felt a little bit flattered that he let me see that. I didn't even know what to say when he finished with an anti-climactic final flick of his thumb across the strings, setting the guitar down gently, not reverently, and turning to face me again. He looked a little sheepishly at me, scratching his shoulder with one hand and half-smiling like a little boy who's rather proud when he's done something by himself without being told.

"Bono? Really?" Sometimes I wished I didn't respond to uncomfortable situations with sarcasm, but it honestly can't be helped. I was actually affected by the song more than I cared to admit, and, well- I really didn't like U2.

"Bella," he said, exasperated. He actually seemed hurt, so I cut him off before he could become a swaggering, brusque asshole again.

"James," I said, putting my hand on the arm that was reaching for a book of _Beginner's Piano Chords_. "You did it better than Bono."

The look-what-I-did-Ma face returned, and he leaned in, kissing me on the forehead. "You're sweet, Bell. But we're here to show up my buddy, not listen to me screw around on the guitar. Let's get started, shall we?"

I went home an hour later, dazed and more confused than ever. When Garrett called me around dinnertime to make sure I was going to be at the bar that night, I was non-committal and distracted.

I was beginning to think that a little distance from the piano bar and all things Edward and James might be a good idea. I didn't like feeling so abstractly conflicted, and I needed to sort some stuff out in my head.

**Hey, this ain't the only thing I'm posting today. Go read my article at the Lazy, Yet Discerning Ficster, out every Friday!**


	10. Chapter 10

'**Ello there. Today is my sixth anniversary, holy crap. I can't believe he's put up with me for that long!**

**Dedicated to my jandco and my husband, in that order. And special thanks to jenndaynumbers for the hand-holding and the d'angelo.**

**Bella**

I didn't go to the bar that night. In fact, I decided it was time to pay more attention to other stuff, like school. I didn't really want to be one of those girls who only obsessed about her love life (or lack thereof). From henceforth, Isabella Swan is going to focus on the things that are in front of her. Friends, family. Family.

I called Renee. It had been a while, and I knew she'd provide some perspective on the man situation. So much for not obsessing on my sucky love life… I lasted one night and called her the next morning.

"Morning, darling!" she trilled into the phone. The best thing about my mother was that she was always glad to hear from me, even if it was just to bitch about boys. Or, rather- _especially_ if it was bitch about boys.

"So, how are things? I saw a dress from Alice in my _Glamour_. I put it on the refrigerator next to your guy's mug shots." Mom loved Alice. Who didn't?

"Yeah, she's pleased as punch about that one. Mom, take those stupid mug shots down, sheesh."

"No! I'm proud of my daughter and her friends who think running naked through a town square is a good idea."

"For the last time, I was wearing underwear. Anyway, how're things? How's Phil? He making an honest woman out of you yet?"

"Never. Phil's good, honey. And _you_ and boys?" Uh oh. She had the "significant look" voice. She knew something.

"Why, what have you heard?"

"Oh, nothing." Her voice was coy. _Alice_.

"Alice told you, didn't she?"

"Told me what?"

"Mother."

She sighed. "It was Rosalie. Look, Bella. It sounds like this Edward guy acts like kind of a jerk, but he sounds good on paper. What's the holdup? Why haven't you talked to him yet?"

"And say what, exactly? 'Thanks for the one-night stand, I really appreciate that you're such a grown-up about it, now will you please continue to berate my sad piano skills?' Come on, Mom. You know I have that nervous talking thing around guys."

"I know no such thing. I know that Tyler Crowley still calls here whenever he's in town, hoping that you're around and single-"

"Oh, gees. He still does that? It's been-"

"Look, I don't want to talk about your ex-boyfriends-"

"Ex-nothings, ma."

"-ex-nothings, then. Let's talk about how delish the sexy piano player is, and how good he was in bed."

"Oh my God. This isn't happening. I'm going to class naked, and then I'm going to wake up and take a shower and clean this nightmare conversation from my consciousness."

"No school on Sundays, sweetie. Listen, I'm serious. Have you even talked to this guy?"

No. No, I hadn't. And that's what my mother always did for me- she pointed out the obvious stuff.

"Well, no."

"Uh, then why are we even having this conversation? You don't know where you stand, I take it. You're just… going to these piano lessons and having all this unresolved, unnecessary sexual tension, right?"

Fuck you sometimes, Mom. "Umm…"

"And you're being a bitter woman who wonders why he's such a dick, right?"

"It's not that simple-"

"Yeah, it is, actually. Bella," she said, and she sounded so exasperated and Mom just then, "just talk to him."

"Okay, Dear Abby. How do I start this ground-breaking conversation? I'm not even sure I want to be with a guy like him who'd sleep with a girl and then be a total dick to her in front of a large roomful of people."

"Large roomful of people?"

"Yeah, Mom. The piano bar."

"What piano bar?"

Rosalie. "Didn't you hear that part?"

"No, but I love piano bars. Is Edward a piano bar guy at one of those dueling bar thingies?"

"Yeah, and he sings these dirty songs to me and smacks my ass on stage and stuff. Listen, how do I-"

"That's sexy."

"Mom, would you just-"

"Ask him why he's such a jerk."

"Mom, I'm being serious here-"

"So'm I. Look, relations are already strained between you two, right? Bella?"

"Right." I was mumbling, because I already knew she was going to make sense, and I hated that.

"So, what's asking him going to do? Make things worse? Make him spank you harder? Yes, definitely talk to him. You never have enough fun, dear."

"Oh, gee, Mom. I think I hear the oven."

"You don't bake on Sundays."

"Potluck tomorrow. Gotta go."

"I'm serious, Bella. Talk to the guy. Then make out. Then call me."

"Bye."

"Love you!"

"Love you, too," I mumbled before sulkily laying the phone on the cradle.

I knew it. I hated that she was right.

So… how to talk to a guy. To Edward. Should I get him away from a piano? Maybe I should get him away from the piano.

Maybe that was the source of our problems.

I carried the worry about this into the teacher's lounge the following morning. I knew it was time to do something about it when even the usually oblivious Jasper asked me if everything was okay in Bellaville.

"Yes, yes," I kept replying, practically taking his head off when he asked me a second time. I looked down and noticed I had been doodling music notes across my lesson plans for the day, and I hastily slammed the notebook shut before tucking my pen into the spirals.

"Oh, Bella. Dinner at my place tomorrow?" Esme had rushed in, her hair still slightly damp as she poured herself a mug of coffee. "I already called Alice and Rose, boys, so we're all going to be there."

"Oh? And will a certain nephew of yours be there?" Emmett was asking, eyeing me significantly as he speared a breakfast sausage. How he managed to eat those Big Breakfasts two or three times a week was beyond me. And screw everyone for quite obviously discussing my boy problems when I wasn't there.

"Who, Masen?" Esme asked sweetly, holding her generic teacher's mug to her face. I could only see her eyes, but they were shining with mischief. Yikes. I knew I wouldn't be able to get out of dinner, but it might be the perfect opportunity to talk to _him_. Anticipatory butterflies started gnawing on my stomach lining.

"I'll be there, Esme. Seven, right?" I hastily stood up and everyone stared, probably knowing I was seriously uncomfortable. Esme nodded and managed to look both accusatory and apologetic all at the same time. I grabbed my stuff and headed off to class, my brain numb and my spine full of dread.

Tomorrow. Seven.

I hoped I could make it.

What would I say?

The next twenty-four hours passed, miserable and slow. It was near Halloween and the soothing autumn colors that were prevalent this time of year couldn't cheer me up as they normally did; I found myself being snappy with my students and biting the head off of anyone who dared so much as look at me. Emmett actually tried to broach the piano teacher topic and I got so unreasonably furious at him that I felt the blood rush to my face, stinging and embarrassing. I pointed my finger and uttered some nonsense at him until I simply turned and stomped off, my hair whipping my face and making me feel worse.

I had no idea how this dinner would go. All I could do was replay scenes from the last disastrous birthday dinner over and over in my mind; Edward being snippy, Edward being achingly good to look at; Edward being Edward.

_I'm determined this time_, I chanted to myself over and over again as I walked out to my car after an exhausting day of being alternately absent-minded and bitchy. I was going to face the issue, face him.

Find out what his deal was. I had to know.

Why was he so stand-offish to me?

Why did he treat me like an object?

Why was he rude to everyone but me?

Why didn't he want me?

I drove home in a daze, coming to at a stop sign and wondering exactly when it was that I had driven two and a half miles. I saw my driveway and started to panic. What would I wear? Oh lord, what was I going to say? It all sort of hit me in a suffocating panic.

I took a deep breath and decided that I needed reinforcements. I picked up my phone and made exactly one phone call.

By the time I got out of the shower, I once again had Kate, Garrett, Alice, and Rosalie in my room. Alice and Rose were already dressed and looking effortlessly fantastic as I stood there with a towel wrapped around my body and another around my hair. I must've looked stricken because Kate rushed up and hugged me, patting my back and murmuring soothing sounds in my ear.

"Darling, we shall doll you up and have you looking faboo for Eddiekins. Ladies?" Garrett was comfortably seated in the only chair in my room that wasn't covered in clothes, legs crossed and arms folded while he regarded me with an arched eyebrow. "Sweet Alice has brought a selection; let the games begin."

"Wait, wait. I need underwear." I hobbled over to my dresser and pulled out the first undergarment I came across, awkwardly sticking one leg in while trying to maintain towel integrity. I suppose it didn't matter, but the thought of being naked in front of four beautiful people was unnerving, and the last thing I needed was to be more rattled than I already was.

"Bell-la. Don't you own anything better than Hanes?" Rosalie knew the answer to this, but she loved to mock my chonies. She came over and yanked the towel down, making me squawk and cup my breasts. I tried to glare at Rose and swiveled to find her, but the turban started to come off and I just- ugh.

"Go away. I changed my mind. I'm wearing my trusty Old Navy tee and Charlie's old Levis tonight." I was huffy and biting a grin because any second now-

"I told you not to utter that Mom shop name around me, Bella," Alice growled, playfully. I think. I grabbed the first not-too-dirty bra my fingers touched and snapped it on quickly. I unraveled the towel and started to finger-comb my hair, finally turning around to face the music and my friends.

"Okay, lay it on me."

The next twenty minutes were a tolerable sort of torture. I was silent the entire time, my eyes on the ceiling as I did what I was told and sort of absorbed the bickering over Dress Up Bella Time.

"Not that one, Alice. The neck is too low. We want demure, not a Madonna video."

"Yellow? Are you drunk?"

"She looks catatonic."

"Ask him if you were a good lay."

"Make sex eyes at him the whole time."

"Be mysterious."

"Be alluring."

"Be yourself."

"Yeah, Bella. Just… be yourself."

Myself. Bella wasn't so sure just what herself was up to these days.

I was determined to find out what Edward's deal was, though. Tonight. At dinner. Okay, not at dinner, but tonight, sometime during dinner. Maybe after?

"'K, I'm going before I talk myself out of it."

I was finally dolled up in a nice-fitting, not-too-snug set of pants and a button-up that I was told were snazzy as well as flattering, but I didn't discern a huge difference between that and what I usually wore. Okay, that isn't true; the glances in the mirror did show that I looked like a well-dressed grown up, even if Rosalie wouldn't be caught dead in wide leg, low-rise trousers or the color purple ("it washes me out, yuck") let alone flats. But I refused to wear heels. I wanted to feel confident tonight.

"Good luck, sweetie," Kate whispered into my hair as she hugged me fiercely. She had remained silent most of the time, occasionally rolling her eyes or backhanding Garrett when he got a little too… Garrett. As she pulled back, she rubbed my shoulder a little bit. "Go find some answers, and call me if you need some encouragement."

"Thanks, Kate," I whispered as Garrett took my hand and danced me around the room and out the door, singing that song from _Lady and the Tramp_ and making Alice and Rose giggle like teenagers. Before I realized it, we were in my car; that way, the girls could go home with Emmett and Jasper and I could make it home by a decent hour for school the following day. Also, I wanted to make sure I had an instant out if I needed it.

I sat shotgun and listened with a grim sort of anticipation as Alice and Rosalie chattered on. I think they knew I was either going to vomit or have a severe case of verbal vomit, so they were doing it to keep me distracted. It sort of worked, but the closer we got to Esme and Carlisle's place, the more the large, acidic bubble in my throat threatened to creep closer to my mouth.

"Showtime," Rose muttered as we pulled into the driveway. I stepped out of the car and tossed my hair out of my face; I had won that fight, and my hair was normal and flat and air-dried, but I liked it that way. The door was slightly opened, so we let ourselves in, the warm, Esme Home smell of meat and potatoes filling me up and making the bile taste a little bit better.

Alice let out a cab-calling whistle and Carlisle's head popped around the doorway a moment later. "They're here, sweetheart," he hollered, coming at us with open arms and smelling like fresh, clean male.

"Why, ladies. Did you dress our Bella? She's not wearing any black today," he said, winking at me before putting a hand on my back. "He doesn't stand a chance," he whispered, leaning down and moving my hair with his spoken words. He led me to the dining room table, not seeing my embarrassed sputter as his words registered in my slow-ass brain. _Oh, he meant Edward_. _Carlisle knows, too. Dammit._

Alice and Rose had gone ahead of me; they were already seated by Jasper and Emmett, and Carlisle took me over to a grinning Masen, who was patting the chair next to him.

"You get to sit by me, Miss Swan," he said, his voice a little pre-pubescent and a lot heart-warming.

Carlisle held the chair out for me and I sat down primly, making sure to keep my back straight so the low-rise waist wouldn't reveal anything.

Masen started talking about a book he had read for class while I counted available seats. The ones next to and across from me were empty, and Esme was being seated by Carlisle at the other end of the table. I was guessing I'd be across from Edward with Carlisle at the head of the table next to me. A surge of anticipation made me gulp twice. Or maybe it was the impending barf.

Everyone seated was actively engaged in conversation except for me. Masen was still chattering on at me, so I put on my Attentive Teacher face, listening while boiling inside.

_Where is he Where is he Where is he_

Oh God. What if he didn't even show up?

I heard the door open and shit.

He showed.

I took a deep breath. Nodded in agreement at whatever Masen was saying.

I felt a cool swish of disturbed air at my back; Edward was walking in, murmuring excuses for his tardiness.

"As long as you made it." Esme beamed at him as she replied.

"I wouldn't miss this for the world." He said it, clearly and succinctly, something implied in his tone and I snapped my head up at that thing- that low purr that I wasn't sure whether it was intentional but it sure as hell unsettled me every time.

His eyes met mine, and I was shocked at what I saw there. It was as though all the other times I had ever seen him, there had been a match struck to illuminate his eyes- but now that flame was like a crackling fireplace, cheery and hot and inviting.

He was actually smiling at me.

"Hello, Bella," he said, nodding slightly in my direction. And somehow, some way- I didn't know if it was Rose's advice or Garrett's or Alice's or maybe even me doing it, but I curled my mouth into my Bella smile and responded in a clear voice, "Hi, Edward."

I knew everyone was watching us, like we were on some stupid matchmaking TV show or something, but I didn't care. Maybe this evening wouldn't be as bad as I had been assuming.

"So, Bella," Carlisle said, smiling as he cut into the roast. "How're the piano lessons coming?"

Maybe not.

I was hemming and hawing, trying to come up with a non-bitchy answer, but Edward smoothly answered before I could get creative.

"Bella is an apt pupil. She needs to practice, but she'll get better with diligence." He had a smile in his voice and I wasn't entirely sure if he was mocking me or not. I couldn't look directly at him, though, because Esme was expressing her joy while Masen continued to chatter even faster than before and Carlisle fondly patted my hand. What was I, a freaking puppy in obedience school? I saw Emmett and Rosalie share big grins and Alice looked like she was filing away glances as she looked from me to Edward and then down at her plate. Jasper looked thoughtful, raising one eyebrow and staring at his forkful of meat.

"Yes," I said quickly, determined to salvage the situation when no one came to my defense. "Edward is quite a teacher. He has a great set-up at his place, and his fingers are especially suited for showing me good fingering techniques." I shoved a big mouthful of potato into my mouth, smiling as I chewed. Emmett choked and Rose was slapping his back; Alice had managed to dribble some gravy on her shirt and was dabbing a corner of her napkin into her water, cursing a litany under her breath. Esme must have finally noticed that all was not well in piano-land as she was now staring at me, but I looked at her with my best innocent face and happily continued chewing.

After a moment, I risked a glance at Edward. Shit. He was going to respond.

"Thank you, Bella. I don't know about my fingering, but I really like the way you're able to go up and down and all around the keys. You seem to enjoy performing, and it wouldn't surprise me to learn that you've got good staying power."

"Well, I know that when I hear you play, it makes me want to improve my technique. Like, the way you make a room throb with energy? It's really… scintillating. I'm amazed by how the seat vibrates when you're pounding hard on the… keyboard." Ha. That time, Edward choked on his drink, and Carlisle was swiping his mouth with his napkin. Esme regarded me with a very quizzical look, but I just beamed back at her, taking a bite of my broccoli.

"Yes, well-" he started, and I could see his brain churning, looking for a retort, but I didn't let him. I was only warming up.

"I mean, I'm amazed you don't have more… willing students… _coming_. Personally, I can't wait until I can pound one out with the same stamina you have." By then, even Masen had stopped eating, and I took a long draw on my wine, enjoying that everyone else was now uncomfortable and I was giddily embarrassed inside.

Carlisle coughed politely into his fist and the others took that as a sign to start talking about something else, so I finally risked facing Edward and looking him square in the face.

The friendly look from before was replaced with a scorching… well, not rage. But he wasn't exactly pleased, either. I stayed quiet the rest of the meal and so did he, answering perfunctorily when addressed.

When it was time to clear, I hopped up and started collecting plates, noticing with a combination of fear and elation that Edward was helping me. Alice, Jasper, Rosalie and Emmett were watching me carefully, probably looking for a sign that I wanted an out. I didn't. I might've even shaken my head slightly.

Determined. I kept telling myself I was determined.

He followed me into the kitchen, quietly placing his stack of dishes next to mine.

"What the hell was that?" I had my back to him, and I could feel the accusation burning into my spine so I turned around before it turned to a brushfire.

"What? I was answering a question." And procrastinating. His hands were on his hips and he looked for all the world like my mother when she was pissed at me.

"I thought-" But he didn't know what he thought because he was at a total loss for words. The glib, overly verbose dirty-talkin' piano jockey was at a loss for words, and it gave me strength.

"What's your deal?" I asked before I could self-edit. I cringed a little, but I stood up straighter, feeling my blouse pooching out at the waist of my pants, but whatever. I didn't want to fidget and fix it; I stood my ground.

"My… deal?" Ugh, he was grinning slightly, his arrogance and obvious amusement at my word choice igniting that irritating fire my body seemed to reserve just for him.

"Yes, your deal. You're hot, you're cold. You're confusing. You treat me like crap, you degrade me privately and publicly. You parade me on top of your piano to maintain your Dick rep. You pretend you're fucking me and you one night stand me, but you also wash my clothes and take care of me when I'm hungover and make me bagels and make me think-"

"Hold up. What?"

"Don't interrupt me. You made me think-"

"One night stand?"

Stop fucking interrupting. "Yeah." I suddenly realized I was up on my toes, the backs of my flats on the ground and my pants falling off my damned hips as I stretched up to get in his face. It wasn't easy since the guy was a good eight inches taller than me, but I seemed to be trying without thinking. I'm sure I was all flushed, too, but at least I had managed to keep my voice down during my tirade. I slowly lowered back down to the floor, the hems of my wide legs getting caught under my feet and yanking the waist down even more, but I didn't care. I was too pissed and getting progressively more pissed at his calm and amused expression.

"Bella, you don't think I- oh. _Oh_." He was looking sheepish and away from me, sweeping his hair from his forehead with a force that looked like it might have hurt if he weren't so distracted. _I don't think you what? _ What the hell was going on?

Then I realized that he probably thought I was into him. Which I wasn't. Or I was. Fuck, I just didn't know. Oh, God. He wasn't into me. That was it. I got my answer without having to ask, but still- my face burned with red and I stepped back, turning to give attention to the dishes.

Oh. I see.

"Bella, we haven't slept together, if that's what you-"

"It's okay, Edward. You don't have to explain anything. I get it." I turned the faucet on, running my fingertips under the water to check for how hot it was.

His sigh was so heavy and exasperated that I almost turned around, but I realized that trying to read into Edward's actions had gotten me to this rather embarrassing "Bella misreads the signs again" moment in my life, so for once, I just shut up. My fingers were ice cold under the water, or maybe it was getting hotter but then I felt sparks on my arm as Edward tried to turn me around.

"Hey, look at me." Huh uh. "Bella." I turned around reluctantly, not wanting to see pity in his eyes. I was staring at an expanse of ironed shirt, the second button at my eye-level.

"Bella," he said, tipping my chin up with his finger. I sort of half-heartedly resisted meeting his eyes. He sighed in frustration and grabbed both sides of my face, gently directing my head so that I was looking at him.

"We didn't sleep together. You ridiculous girl. Did not."

"Oh." Oh. I mean, how can you respond in that situation?

"Oh? You think I'm hot?"

God, he would pick that one thing out.

"That's not what I meant."

"It sure sounded like it."

"Jesus H. Christ," I spat. Like that, I was all worked up again. Never had anyone had such an immediate and infuriating effect on me as this man. I was making a fool out of myself around the smooth Edward Cullen, and I didn't know how to stop. Sputtering, spattering.

"You're an arrogant prick, do you know that? I just- I don't even- you're such a-"

"Oh, just shut up already," he said, leaning down and gently pressing his lips to mine. Well, that's one way to shut a girl up.

I was furious and furiously hot as his lips moved against and with mine. There was no tongue; there didn't need to be tongue. He was holding the side of my face and his hands pulled away to just fingertips, lightly brushing my skin as his mouth lightly brushed and finally tongue. He stroked a little, that requesting permission tongue thing, and I parted my lips slightly, either inviting it or being struck dumb by it and suddenly Edward was _there_, tasting like gravy mingling with my wine and his fingers dropped from my face and tickled down my neck and kept going until he was holding my back and resting his palms on my hips.

Now that my head was free I became animated, kissed him back. Felt the unanswered questions bubbling and frothing into action from between my lips, whipping and fighting him back and welcoming his warmth. Kissing and tongue, tonguing kisses that didn't devour, didn't lap, didn't do disgusting porn-type tongue things; he was kissing me hard, he was kissing me good. He was pulling me into him, his fingers playing with the hem of my shirt, brushing my falling pants, my skin. Not forcing, not exploring, just… feeling. I tried to feel back but I was gripping his shirt placket and boy, Alice would be proud that I remembered the right term for it and thinking about my friend made me pull back a little and I reluctantly dragged my lips away and we paused for a second, nose brushing nose and lips a breath apart, breath held and held until someone broke the silence.

"Sorry," he whispered against my lips, and like that, I came to. Dazed, still, but I stepped back. I frowned because- wow- that was… something. Wasn't it?

"It's okay."

"You just… you weren't letting me get a word in." He actually looked apologetic, and he scratched his neck before continuing. "Look, we haven't slept together. You were… incapacitated that night, and I felt bad and just- yeah. You got sick and you needed help and your friends were gone, so I- you needed help," he said, practically tripping over his words. I had never seen him look so at a loss for something to say.

I was going to respond with something brilliant, I'm sure, but he took my hand and said, "Look, they're probably wondering what happened to us. Let's go back." He dropped my hand and we walked out of the kitchen, me still confused but feeling lighter. Right before we stepped back into the dining room, he leaned down to my ear and said, "Bella?"

"Uh huh?" Good response, Bella.

"I'm sorry I'm such a jerk. It's not you, trust me. We'll… we'll talk on Saturday." With that, he walked past me and sat down, and I somehow made my way back to my chair.

Saturday. Sure. If I could make it until then.

**So this Saturday, A Different Forest is having a big party! Join us for a new kind of fansite. You won't be disappointed, promise! You can pre-register for membership by going to the website (link on my profile). Should be a hoot and a half, yo. Join me, jandco, jfly, emibella, wolvesnvamps, ktbass, peneloperose, sensecoalition and jennday on a brand new endeavor!**

**Ooh, it starts at 11pm EDT. Put on your party pants and BYOS.**


	11. Chapter 11

**o hai**

**i just graduated nursing school and well... i have time. much time. i missed this story so much, it ain't even a little bit funny.**

**thanks for sticking with me, yo. **

**and i updated this earlier in the week over at a different forest. me, jandco, and some of the other rangers will be doing that. updating there first. so register if you wanna read this earlier, or read jandco's new oneshot, etc.**

**oh, and i haven't flounced to the bones fandom. but you should read the stories, js js**

**okay, i hate long author's notes so here:**

**Chapter 11**

How did I make it through dessert and coffee?

I don't know how I made it through dessert and coffee.

Or how I drove home.

He kissed me.

He _kissed_ me.

He kissed _me_.

And it was amazing. Like… I've been kissed. I've spent hours in the back seats of cars, making out and steaming windows while listening to _Nirvana Unplugged in New York_.

But that…

It was like having one of those moments where all the facts have always been there, but it just took one little thing- one simple little sentence uttered nonchalantly by a non-participating party or a line in a book or something but you just got it. You finally understood.

And I finally understood what it meant when they say "he took my breath away".

And I was more determined than ever to figure out what the hell was going on us.

If I could only make it to Saturday.

My unease was so bad by Wednesday that James noticed it immediately. He met me as planned in the choir room, strolling into the echoing hall with a whistle on his lips and a jaunty lift in his step. He straddled a chair and parked himself right next to the piano bench where I sat waiting, tapping my heel and wiggling my fingers on Middle C and D, the sound of my impatience clanging and vibrating throughout the excellent acoustics of the music department.

"Something… bothering you?" he asked, slinging his motorcycle-ish leather jacket across the piano. He was wearing an old white undershirt with holes near the collar, and he looked like he had just rolled out of bed. I would've punched him, but the guy was like one of those popular guys from high school who never got in trouble because he was just so adorable. I laughed without joy as an image of a young James flashed in my head, grinning while seducing a bunch of teachers at a piano recital.

"Okay, I give. What is up with you, gorgeous?" He smoothly rose from his chair and slid onto the bench next to me, bumping my hip and making me shove over. I shrugged and started playing the song we had been working on, slopping through it and not even caring. I was too distracted.

"Hey, hey, hey. I know you're a novice, but come on. Treat the girl with a little respect." He had reached out and lightly placed his hands on mine, slowing me down and gently pressing on my fingers with his. I looked down and saw the veins in his arms popping out as he guided me; he had blonde hair on his knuckles, and his hands were cracked and dry. He was a nail-biter, too; I couldn't help myself from comparing his tanned skin to Edward's, his fingers so different from the long and nimble ones of my other piano teacher. James' looked like he saw manual labor; Edward's were masculine in a different way, a stronger way. Kinda like the difference between a mechanic and a scientist or engineer or doctor or something like that.

I allowed James to take me through the first few stanzas, mostly because it was soothing. Really, he was very good as an instructor. He had his serious face on; he truly wanted me to improve, and for that, I adored him.

"See? You stroke a lady, and she'll always purr for you." Back to irritation at the immature boy. What a tool, really. I laughed at his expression, however- this time with joy. How could I not? There was something so endearing about a horn dog who didn't pretend to be a nice guy. Unlike some people I knew.

"Thanks, James," I said, shouldering him over and "stroking the lady," as he called it. "How's my fingering?" I grinned and started to play for real; I noticed with some surprise and much pleasure that I actually sounded pretty decent.

"Hey, that's pretty good, Bella. You been cheatin' on me with that other windbag piano guy, or what?" I laughed, at ease for the first time in what seemed like forever. I didn't care that he was a total walking hard-on; James was fun.

Plus, I was going to kill Edward with this little tune. And I would forever love James for that.

The rest of our lesson was spent with James giving me pointers on flair; he had decided I was finally ready to learn how to sing while playing. Of course I sucked at it. I was starting to get frustrated again, especially when my mind reverted to That Night, the one where I was Darling Nikki'd and the alley and hot breath on my face and goddamn, I hit a wrong note and it must've been obvious that I was irritated (distracted, turned on) because James once again put his hands on mine, this time stopping me from playing.

"Hey, where are you today?" His look of concern brought me a moment of focus. I stared into his navy blue eyes and looked at the wrinkle between his eyebrows; in that moment I almost wished I was attracted to his personality instead of his rockin' bod.

"I- oh, I'm fine. Can we just finish?" I am such a sucky liar.

"Fine, my left nut. Come on, Bella. Talk to Uncle Jimmy." Oh, lord. Dirty Uncle Jimmy in the house.

"He kissed me." I blurted it out before I could check myself. I cringed a little but decided it was good to purge. James was a guy, right? He was a dick, he played the piano. Maybe he'd have a unique perspective on the motivations of another dick piano player. Maybe he'd have some sage-like advice to offer. Kinda like when you ask one of the guys at Home Depot about the leak in your faucet- they're there, and they're wearing an apron with a logo. They _must_ know what they're talking about, right?

"Who kissed you?"

"Edward, Jesus." I hated it when guys were willfully stupid.

"Ohhh. When? I thought you hated each other. Was it hot? I bet it was hot. Nothin' like making out with someone you have open distaste for." He had risen up a little and was now leaning on the top of the piano, chin in his hand. He was looking off into the distance, obviously reminiscing as he kept sighing. I cleared my throat and banged on the keys, and that brought him to. Obviously he was hamming it up, and I pretended to be unamused, but I couldn't help it. James was making me feel better about this whole business.

"We don't hate each other. I don't think. Err, I don't hate him? Fuck if I know." I was back to tinkling the keys distractedly, desperate for a guy's opinion on the whole thing.

"Ooh, I like it when you curse. It's sexy. Listen, stop fucking around. I thought you were going to talk to him? You need to stop letting your tongue speak for you. Unless it's with me." He grinned, a lazy, ironic sort of "I get laid when I want" grin, and suddenly, I felt comfortable with the guy. He knew. He could see I had a crush on another guy, and like that, he stopped actually hitting on me and simply flirted because that was how he talked to women.

"I know. We're supposed to talk on Saturday… which means I'll probably be at the bar. Listen, do me a favor? If you see me kissing him again, come up and punch me or something." He threw his head back at that, a genuine laugh of delight, and he sat back down and put his arm around me.

"How about if I drag you away like a caveman and make him jealous? Guys like Edward respond to that shit." The hour was up, but he started playing around on the keyboard, his fingers dancing and the notes spilling out like joy. He was playing "My ding-a-ling" and I joined in the bawdy lyrics, letting go and feeling light for the first time since the disastrous/potentially positive dinner.

"Bella," James said as we got up to leave. "Knock 'im dead."

"Will do, Uncle Jimmy."

Thursday.

Friday.

Saturday.

I filled the next few days with work and routine. It was the only way I knew to keep my mind from freaking out and reverting. I had no actual plan, just show up at my piano lesson and see what would happen. It was a major departure for me to not overanalyze and obsess over the permutations of what might happen. I think I entered some sort of zone in which the Bella of old did not exist; I was a new woman, determined once again to set things straight with my sexy piano teacher.

But as the sun rose that Saturday and I realized I hadn't thought about what to wear, I started to get nervous. I considered calling the posse in to dress me again, but I felt ridiculous and irrationally annoyed with my friends for being a crutch for me. New Bella dresses herself. I dressed for comfort, not sex. That would just put me on edge.

About a half hour before I was leaving, my house phone rang and I picked it up, making bets with myself over who it could be. And it was Garrett, of course.

"Darling, will we be seeing your tight ass this fine evening?" I could picture him sitting in a fabulous chair, wearing like, grey slacks and a tight-fitting button-down. His legs would be crossed, and his hair would be effortlessly, deliberately mussed.

"Yes," I replied crisply, smearing some Bonne Bell Watermelon on my mouth. "I'm supposed to talk to him."

"Talk to whom, exactly?" I imagined Garrett inspecting his fingernails, his eyebrows raising along with his questioning tone.

"Garrett."

"Me? We're talking right now. I think you should talk to sexy Eddie instead. A little birdie told me there was a little bit of macking going on at the dinner party. Now, Bella. I thought we were friends." His hurt tone really sounded like he was put out with me.

"We are," I sighed, slipping my thin wallet into my back pocket. Here we go. "What did you hear?" I genuinely thought no one had seen us. I was sure _he_ hadn't said anything. Had he?

"Oh, that your breath was taken away. Please tell me he's not a sloppy kisser. I have preconceived notions that I don't care to be taken away from me. Is our Edward a delicious tongue massager or a disgusting St. Bernard?"

I giggled at the image. "Definitely delicious. Look, he was just trying to shut me up, and Garrett… he says we didn't sleep together."

"Tell me something I didn't already know."

"I know, I know. It's just... wait. How do you know?"

"Bella," he sighed, "it's obvious. You two have too much sexual tension to have done the nasty. But I figured you needed to find out on your own. I can't do everything for you."

"You're lucky I love you," I replied in an annoyed tone. Was it that obvious to everyone but myself?

"Don't I know it. Listen, don't you have a lesson to go to? What are you going to do, make out?"

"I don't even know," I sighed. "What should I do?"

"I think Edward has some explaining to do. It's fair that you ask for a state of the union."

I laughed at that. "State of the union? Am I America, or the Congress?"

"You're Jackie O., darling. I say play the part of the demure English teacher and allow the boy to speak. You'd be surprised what you find out when you keep your tongue to yourself."

"Thank you. That's ever-so helpful."

"I know. Kiss kiss. Good luck. Call Uncle Garrett once you've removed your tongue from his throat."

"Why does everyone want to be my uncle?"

"Oh, but I'm shocked. Are you and Edward role-playing? Because that's just… a little bit dirty and a lot bit fascinating."

"Not Edward, silly. James."

"Even better. But darling, if you fuck James, I'm going to be upset on both Edward's behalf and mine."

"You don't have to worry about that." I hope. I didn't want to do James.

"Good. That would make it awkward when we all gathered for holidays."

"You make no sense sometimes."

"Wrong, dear. I make more sense than most. Go. Tickle the ivories, then tickle-"

"Bye, Uncle Garr."

"Smooches."

Shaking my head, I grabbed my keys and went off to my lesson, feeling… nothing, oddly. Huh. I got in the car and drove, totally aware of my surroundings. I wasn't in denial, but I wasn't really in anticipation. I was simply… aware.

As I was arriving, I heard some pretty intense piano playing going on. I stood outside a bit, listening. It reminded me of my childhood- the one time Renee made the mistake of getting a pet for me and she got a dog. I never took care of it, except when it came time to walk the thing- I had the hots for this neighbor who played the violin. I used to stand outside his house, listening to him practice. He was a total jerk, but man, could he play. I would totally lose myself in fantasizing about him.

Familiar situation.

I stood out there, listening to the ebb and flow of the notes. It was a showpiece. I heard the trills and delicate runs, played with intensity that I could practically see on Edward's face. He was probably trying to show off because he knew I was coming, but I didn't even care. I was carried away, a chilly wind lifting the hair off my shoulders as I stood, eyes half-closed, swaying a little. I could feel my chest expand with each successively larger breath, my lungs filling with the music, swelling and bursting and letting go, letting it out, letting it back in. The intensity of it made me want to weep, and to be honest- it made me a little turned on, too. Edward was good. He was amazing. I could never be that good. I'd have to be satisfied with him being good enough for the both of us.

It ended abruptly, and I was suddenly brought out of my trance. I felt like it was a sign, an indication that things would go well. I was buzzing with feeling, the music carrying my feet the few final steps to the door. I hesitated, my fist hovering at the door, when it burst open. He was standing there, a bottle of Fiji in his hand. He looked rumpled in his white undershirt and low-slung jeans; he looked delicious. Startling sexy. It was like no matter how many times I saw him, I continued to be surprised at how attractive he was to me. Before I could let that thought warm me, I remembered that I wasn't the only woman to ever feel this way toward this guy, and I let a bored face overtake my expression. I didn't want to give him clues as to how I felt until I was sure he didn't think I was disgusting or irritating or just another girl.

"Nice. Chopin?"

"Hardly," he replied, taking a swig of his water and swinging the door by the upper corner, allowing me in. I had to duck under his arm and I got a brief whiff of his clean odor. He even _smelled_ sexy.

"Um. Rachmaninoff?" I didn't really know much about piano stuff, but I knew it wasn't Beethoven because I'd seen _Immortal Beloved_ like a thousand times. It was too… uncomplicated. More expressive. Hotter.

I walked over to the piano, half-expecting the thing to be warm to the touch. I stopped at the bench but didn't sit down, waiting to see what he'd do. Whether he wanted to talk or ignore or what. He sat down, patting the seat next to him, so I joined him, avoiding having our thighs touch.

"I was dead from love's bliss; I lay buried in her arms; I was wakened by her kisses; I saw heaven in her eyes." He was playing, frowning at the keyboard, muttering the words under his breath. If it hadn't sounded like such a line, I would've been swept away in the drama of it all.

Instead, I barked a short laugh. "What?"

"Franz Liszt, Bella. He was the last thing I studied before I left the Conservatory. I did this huge report on him, and this piece was always my favorite." The notes quieted, his playing softened. He was pressing into the keys, leaning into the notes, eyes closed with memory making the music. It flowed from him, and it was beautiful. He opened his eyes and grinned at me. "This piece is based on a poem about orgasms." Such an infuriating douche sometimes.

"Why do you do that?" I demanded before I could censor myself. I held my ground though, continuing to stare into his wild green eyes. We stared at each other for a second, and he was the first to move. Score one for Bella.

"Come on, time for your fifth lesson." He stood up and stuck his hand out at me; I decided not to question it and took his hand. Smooth and warm. I watched his veins strain as he helped me off the bench, and I tried not to fall into his arms when he pulled a little too forcefully.

"Sorry," he said quietly, looking down. I had stumbled and pitched forward. "You're a lot lighter than I remembered."

"Gee, thanks," I said, and he let go of my hand. Without checking to make sure I followed, he walked over to the table by the door and grabbed his wallet and keys.

"Come on. We're late."

"For what?" If I had expected an answer, I was to be disappointed. He opened the door and held it open much the same way he had a few minutes before. This time I sailed under his arm and didn't look back as I made my way to the curb.

"This way," he said behind me, grabbing my hand and pulling me along. What the hell? We didn't head to a car, and I found myself being dragged for several minutes before I really caught up to him. We weren't really holding hands, and I didn't appreciate being treated like a disobedient child, so I yanked my hand back and tried to keep up with his long strides.

We walked for several blocks; the houses and townhome complexes turned into corner liquor stores and quaint-looking boutiques; I didn't know how many minutes passed by, but I didn't feel tired or anything. After the first block or so, I started to pay attention to little details, totally choosing to ignore how weird and nonsensical the situation was. Crisp, chilly weather. If we hadn't been walking so quickly, I'd be frozen from the wind. Fall was turning into winter early, the clouds unable to decide between storm and the regular overcast Washington weather. I took a deep breath and let the sharp chill hurt my lungs; in a way, it was a good reminder that I was alive. And following a hot guy to God-knows-where.

After maybe ten minutes, maybe ten hours, we reached our destination. It was what seemed to be a hole-in-the-wall record shop, covered in dust and totally up my alley.

Edward held the door open for me and this time, I smiled up at him. If he didn't know how much I loved records, he was about to find out.

The place was just as I would want it to be. Musty and covered in the stickers of obscure bands, "Sub-Pop" logos all over the place. The requisite Led Zeppelin and Henry Rollins posters on the wall with a huge, psychedelic Bob Marley next to George Carlin. There was a cardboard cut-out of Darth Vader in the corner and a bored-looking clerk behind the register who saw Edward and lighted up with recognition.

"Brougham," he said. "I've got some shit for ya." I raised my eyebrow, never guessing in a thousand years that the somewhat snooty Edward Cullen would be friends with a guy who looked like he played Warcraft on his computer behind the counter all day long.

"Excellent." I watched for a moment and saw the cashier guy reach under the counter and pull out a stack of records. Edward leaned forward and the two became absorbed in what I'm sure was a pretentious conversation about some rare, live album or b-sides of an underappreciated and ahead-of-his-time artist.

I wandered until a small handmade sign proclaiming "60s" caught my eye. The lettering seemed like a bored high school girl had made it, chin in palm as she waited by the register for some hot guy like Edward to wander into her part-time job.

I started alphabetically, grinning at albums I recognized from Renee's collection, frowning at the more obscure artists. When I got to Petula Clark I slowed, flipping through until I found the _Greatest Hits_. I pulled it out, feeling like I was sitting on Grandma Swan's good furniture, it was in such good condition. I smoothed my hand across the glossy cover and flipped it to the track listing, reading the titles and recognizing two.

I felt Edward behind me, but I pretended I didn't notice and tried to ignore that eerie and provocative feeling you get when you know someone's watching you. I put Petula back and moved on to Cream, the colors of _Disraeli Gear_ catching my eye.

He moved closer and his arm reached over my shoulder, the sleeve of his shirt moving my hair as he leaned forward without touching me. I could hear him breathing above me and I watched his fingers as he nimbly flipped past Cream, stopping at the Ds.

"I grew up listening to the Dave Clark Five," he murmured above me, and my eyes looked down as his fingers clasped the corner of the black-and-white-and-orange album. "He wanted to be Mike Smith when he grew up, so he took piano lessons." His voice was low and right next to my ear, only he wasn't really talking to me- he was simply talking. I held my breath, knowing this was him "talking about it", about whatever it was that was so confusing to the both of us.

"He was the life of the party, my father. I idolized him. A real showman. He wasn't really great, but he was entertaining. Everyone adored him; there were always parties at my house growing up, full of music and booze. The day I got into the Conservatory, he told me it was the proudest moment of his life." He pulled the record out and stepped back. I chanced turning around; he still wasn't looking at me. He reverently pulled out the sleeve and slid the vinyl out, palming it like the treasure it was.

"My dad died last Christmas. Did you know that?" His eyes flickered from his perusal of the record and I shook my head. "He was drunk. He t-boned a mother and her child. They all died." I felt rather than heard his voice crack. I said nothing. What was there to say?

He carefully slid the record back in place. "Anyway, I guess you could say I have issues. I dropped out of school so I could take care of Masen. I started recording studio music by day, offering piano lessons to kids who wanted them, and then I sort of fell into the bar thing." He shrugged, ending his narration, and I felt an odd sort of calm rest on my shoulders. Never in a billion years would I think he'd share something so personal with me, even if he didn't go into detail. I felt myself forgiving him for all of his asshole maneuvers while the feminist in me slapped my brain around for the forgiveness. What could I say? There was something about seeing the vulnerable side of an otherwise impervious guy.

We stood there, both looking at the record. I still didn't know what to say. _You're damaged, I'm a neurotic mess._ Quite the dynamic duo.

"Come on, you need the Dave Clark Five in your life. Consider this a part of your musical education." He held his arm out and I took his elbow, walking with him to the register. The Warcraft guy raised a pierced eyebrow at me and I stood up a little straighter. What, never seen a guy like him with a boring little girl like me before?

Warcraft rang up the records and stuffed them into a used bag. Edward took them and slid the package under his arm, never letting go of my hand stuffed into his inner elbow. We walked out the door and back up the street, he looking very pleased with himself and me… with probably a very confused expression on my face.

"Edward?" I ventured, nearly kicking myself for my inability to leave well enough alone. "Are… are we… okay? I'm just so confused." Ugh, cringe.

"Your hand is cold." He stuffed my cold hand into his pocket and we walked a block or so before he responded to me.

"Look, I like you. Maybe too much. I just- I have hang-ups and… can we just be?" It sounded like a cop-out, but when I looked up at him, he was staring at me with such intensity that I forgave him. Again. Maybe I was just a sucker for a pretty face.

He continued to look at me so intently that I softened. He was asking me for patience, for time. Was I willing to give it? Hell yes, I was. To an extent. My patience only reached out so far.

I grinned up at him. We were in front of his place by then. He drew my hand from his pocket and pulled out my record, shuffling his feet when I took it. I stood on my tiptoes and lightly kissed the scruff on his chin.

"Thanks for the album," I whispered, and I took off before I could stuff my mouth with my own foot. Or his tongue. Garrett would be disappointed in me.

I would most definitely be going to the bar that night.


	12. Chapter 12

**Dost thine eyes deceive thee?**

**Look, if you're still here, I'm amazed and flattered. Thank you! I don't know how to assure you that this story is un-hiatusing in any other way than to update again in a few days. I promise, this story is finished. I just need to type it up. It should be complete by the end of the month.**

_**~Apologies in advance for this long author's note. I hate those, so if you don't need to be reminded about what's going on in this story, skip all the bold print.~**_

**Brief recap, wtvoc-style:**

**Bella is a junior high English teacher. Her favorite student (and nephew of a coworker, Esme) Masen convinces her to take private piano lessons, ten in all, from his older brother as a sweet birthday present. She says yes.**

**Meanwhile back at the ranch, Bella's BFF Angela is getting married, and Bella takes her out for a crazy raunchfest bachelorette party at **_**Singin' in the Rain**_**, a sexed-up piano bar. When Angela the bride-to-be is called to the stage, she chickens out and Bella gallantly steps in as "Angela". She is inebriated and acts most unlike herself, gyrating atop the piano Tawny Kitaen-style, while the sexy green-eyed piano player sings a dirty version of the Beatles and smacks her ass on stage.**

**Bella is then hit on by the other dirty. He slips her a mickey and the next thing she knows, she's waking up in a strange apartment, **_**sans les vetements**_**. She gathers her stuff and leaves, seeing that she's in Edward Cullen's apartment. O deer. She doesn't remember a thing and assumes that he took advantage of her. Naturally, her birthday dinner thrown by Esme later that night is chock full o'guests, including Edward. He's an ass to her, she's a dick right on back.**

**Then begins a series of really condescending piano lessons with the Edward, interspersed with mounting sexual tension and Bella's inability to stay away from the piano bar where both Edward, James, and new piano player (the fabulous Garrett and with his tagalong hag Kate) tease poor Bella with increasingly sexualized displays of bravado. **

**Bella becomes confused by Edward's hot/cold, hot/cold, and becomes determined to show Edward up on the piano, so she enlists James to help her improve her piano skills secretly.**

**Throw in some hot kisses and wacky banter. Oh, and she finds out that they never had sex.**

**When last we left these kids (lol in November), Bella had some sense smacked into her by Garrett, who said "you should like, talk to him and stuff." She did, and he was surprisingly pleasant and open. He took her to a record store and told her about his father and how he had died in a car accident while drunk. Bella thinks about this and wonders…**

"_**Edward?" I ventured, nearly kicking myself for my inability to leave well enough alone. "Are… are we… okay? I'm just so confused." Ugh, cringe.**_

"_**Your hand is cold." He stuffed my cold hand into his pocket and we walked a block or so before he responded to me.**_

"_**Look, I like you. Maybe too much. I just- I have hang-ups and… can we just be?" It sounded like a cop-out, but when I looked up at him, he was staring at me with such intensity that I forgave him. Again. Maybe I was just a sucker for a pretty face.**_

_**He continued to look at me so intently that I softened. He was asking me for patience, for time. Was I willing to give it? Hell yes, I was. To an extent. My patience only reached out so far.**_

_**I grinned up at him. We were in front of his place by then. He drew my hand from his pocket and pulled out my record, shuffling his feet when I took it. I stood on my tiptoes and lightly kissed the scruff on his chin.**_

"_**Thanks for the album," I whispered, and I took off before I could stuff my mouth with my own foot. Or his tongue. Garrett would be disappointed in me.**_

_**I would most definitely be going to the bar that night.**_

**Chapter 12**

I didn't even bother changing. I came home, dazed, confused, etc. Why is it that when you get answers to the questions you really want answered, more questions pop up? Stupid over-analytical mind.

What issues?

Hang-ups?

Was he bothered by my drinking? I could stop drinking. No more drinking.

And how good is the Dave Clark Five? I put the record on and fell asleep after flipping it for the third time. I woke up and it was dark, my stomach churning because it was empty and because I was looking forward to going to the bar, to seeing him again.

I nibbled on a cookie and checked my phone. Six zillion missed calls from Rose, Alice, and Kate. Several texts, too. They would pick me up at eight. Shit. They were all going. Hell, I'd probably need the support.

At 7:58 Rose and Alice barged in, looking like Fashion Week had descended on the Great State of Washington.

"Is that what we're wearing?" Alice said disdainfully, a garment bag in hand.

"Oh, no, Alice," I said, standing my ground. "I am comfortable. I am also an adult. No more clothing, please." She rolled her eyes and tossed a Lip Glass at me. "At least put on some gloss."

"Do you have something in a smashbox? Mac's too sticky." I could at least give her the makeup. Isn't that what friends are for?

"The boys are meeting us there," Rose offered, popping an entire cookie in her mouth. I groaned and she brushed crumbs from her chest. "What? They want to see this infamous bar. We'll have to be on our best behavior."

"We have best behavior?" I smiled sweetly, smearing on the frosty tube of gloss. Alice chuckled and hopped up on the kitchen table.

"So, how was the lesson?" she asked, her voice at once innocent and suggestive.

"Informative." I wasn't telling his backstory to them. I knew that had been for me and me alone.

"Really. Are we learning all kinds of fingering techniques?"

"What's with the royal 'we'? It's time to go" I groaned, ignoring their identical wicked smiles. We took Alice's cute little car, blaring Ice Cube and knowing all the lyrics. I felt good; I was with my girls, and I was going to see my boy. A boy. Edward. Whatever.

A low sort of thundering hum was emanating from the bar; we lucked out and got decent parking. The bouncer waved us in, giving me a cheeky grin as I passed him. Great. Was I a regular? I think I was a regular.

Garrett was playing, and man, if he weren't gay… He was doing an absolutely delicious and completely indecent version of "Time of the season," his breathy "ahh"s punctuated by an insistent pounding on the keyboard.

"What's your name? Who's your Daddy?" he whispered into the microphone, winking when he saw me and tossing his head in James' direction. James was leaning on the bar and his eyes lit when he saw me. He made a beeline for us and immediately enveloped me in his arms.

"You smell just like sugar," he said in my ear. I giggled and hugged him back.

"And you smell like an irredeemable dirtbag."

"Why, thank you. I have the soap imported from Italy. And who are your beautiful friends? They're from before, right?"

"This is Rosalie and Alice. They're taken," I said. He threw his head back, laughing and putting an arm around me. That's when I noticed Edward sulking in the corner.

"James, get your tight ass up on this stage," Garrett bellowed through the speaker. James finished the drink he was holding in one gulp and the audience erupted in cheers as he strutted up to the piano.

"This one's for the beautiful, big-breasted girls in the back," he said huskily into the mic. "They claim to be taken, but I have big plans for an orgy later." Whoops, laughter. Rose tossed her hair, looking bored. Alice raised an eyebrow and grinned. Emmett appeared out of nowhere, making a move like he was going to charge the stage, but Rose stuck her arm out and sort of clotheslined him.

I saw Edward take a swig of bottled water and put a neutral look on his face. Thanks, Uncle Jimmy. For making my job that much more difficult.

"You knock me off-a my feet now, baby. Hooo!" Oh, man. If ever a guy could rock at some Michael Jackson on the piano, it was James. The audience got into it, clapping and dancing. Even Emmett calmed down enough to bob his head, muttering the lyrics along with James. I noticed Jasper sitting at a nearby table, scribbling into one of his notebooks.

I danced along, thoroughly enjoying James' showmanship for what it was- a guy who just wanted to have fun and to turn girls on. At one point he saw me looking and winked, the crinkles in his eyes infectious as he sang with pure merriment. If he weren't such a horndog, I could envision hanging out with the guy. Eh. It'd probably lead to sex I'd regret in the end.

Almost without my choosing, my eyes sought out Edward. I still didn't know what to think. The guy had reached out to me, sure, but after thinking about it all day, I had come to the conclusion that his story about his father was some sort of cautionary tale. Was he warning me away? Was he distancing himself? Possibly a little of both?

I led the way to Jasper's table, seating myself in between my girls and continuing to dance to the Michael. James finished with a flourish and a set of runs on the keyboard to great applause. He looked over at Edward with a smile and a flick of his head, a line of sweat running down his temple. Like a challenge, almost; Edward strode over to the other piano and set his bottle down.

"I need a fine woman with a hot ass to please come up with a good suggestion," he said, adjusting his headset and settling down at the baby grand.

Rose took the opportunity to sashay her way up front, parting the crowd in that way she had; people always moved for her. Edward's eyes crinkled in recognition, and I saw them flicker up, scanning the crowd.

"He's looking for you," Alice whispered, grabbing my arm and shaking it wildly.

"Be cool, Alice," I laughed. I was giddy; it was truly odd feeling this way. Yes, he was, indeed, looking for me. Our eyes met and he grinned before giving me a two-fingered salute. He then started a jaunty little tune on the piano, giving Rose something to walk in time to. Coming up to the stage, she leaned across his piano and plucked a pen from his pocket; catcalls rang out because, well, the girl had a good ass. She scribbled on a piece of paper and folded it, blotting a kiss along the crease before handing it to Edward.

He took it, a sparkle in his eye, then laughed as he read what she'd written.

"It ain't original, but what the lady wants, I give it to her. And I do it hard, and I do it well." And with that, he ran his hand down the keyboard.

Raucous. Rowdy fucking _show_-off. I had never been more turned on.

"You shake my nerves and you rattle my brain. Too much a-love drives a man insane. You broke my will, but what a thrill."

Goodness, gracious. Great balls of fire.

We chanted with him. Gees, it was almost indecent how sexy he made the already sexed-up song. Way better than Dennis Quaid. He had stood up abruptly, knocking the bench over.

"Kiss me, Baby." His mouth practically caressed the mic. He sucked his lower lip in and I felt my own mouth go dry. "Hmm. Feels good." Garrett had climbed the stage and was to the side of the piano, holding something behind his back. Without breaking his performance, Edward nodded, and just as it was getting to the part where it was the rockin' piano solo thing- oh, _my_.

Garrett produced a bottle of something brown- whiskey, maybe- and poured it across the piano. Edward was nodding in time to the beat he was banging out, smiling this deliciously evil smile, and then Garrett had a matchbook- piano pounding, the room vibrating, the crowd going insane-

_Fwoom_.

Flames, lighting up Edward's face, his eyes shining with fire and rimmed with deep green intensity. He bit his lip as the short-lived inferno died.

"Come on, Bella," he sang. Did he just say my name? "You drive me crazy. Goodness, gracious-"

"Great balls of fire." I had whispered it, but I felt like he heard me from all the way across the room. Damn. That was-

"Hot, pun intended." Rose had returned, having to have shoved her way through the crowd. "You're welcome, by the way. Jesus, Bella. The fuck are you waiting for? Get on up there." It seemed like everyone was waiting on me to make a move. I looked toward the stage but Edward had gone, replaced by a somber-looking James, who was busy with a gaggle of girls surrounding him, waving papers and trying to get his attention.

A set of strong hands clasped my shoulders and I was turned bodily. Jasper's voice was at my ear, saying, "Thataway, girl."

I gulped. "Thanks, J." I took a sip of Alice's drink and grimaced- _Cosmos, gross_- and headed toward Edward, who was at the bar, wiping his hands with a towel.

"Hey," I said when I reached him. "That was-"

"Ridiculous? Showy?" he grinned, mopping his face and tossing the towel at the bartender, who neatly one-handed it before tossing Edward a new water bottle. "Thanks, man. I'm glad you're here," he said to me softly. I looked up into his face, looking for truth to his words- and it was there. aAgentle, gorgeous green, lighting up his face and filling me with a giddy glow.

"Me, too," I grinned back. _Wow_.

Like that, I felt a shift. A beginning? I could admit now that it was what I wanted.

But I'd need some answers, pronto.

He moved so that his back was leaning against the bar and I followed suit, trying not to be too obvious that I was stealing glances at his face. On the third or fourth time I was totally caught, an impish grin meeting my embarrassed eyes.

"See something you like?"

"You're an ass," I huffed, but I couldn't keep the damned grin off of my face.

"I sure am. Anything you'd like to hear? It's my turn." He stood up and my mind raced; I didn't want him to go just yet.

That didn't mean I'd make it easy on him.

"Yeah. Play the dirtiest fucking ditty you know."

He paused and turned to look at me, and I swear- if expressions could melt fabric, I would've been naked for the rest of my existence. Even the way his nostrils flared as he took a huge breath was turning me on. His mouth turned up at the corner, his one canine longer than the rest of his teeth, and he whispered, "Bella, that's the sexiest thing you've ever said."

Like that, he was gone. I was momentarily stunned, having to hold on to a chair so I didn't fall over.

I had to sort of shake myself back to awareness, and I heard Garrett finishing up a Gaga tune- that one about a disco stick. I chuckled. He _would_.

Then Edward sat down next to Garrett and bumped him over.

"I was asked by a fine young lady to play the- how did she say it? Dirtiest fucking ditty I know? Well, this one's for you, dirty little girl." He licked his lips and began pounding an insistent beat on the piano.

Man, oh man. Several eyes looked my way- women in the audience who must've been tracking Edward's movements and knew he'd been speaking to me. The combination of their jealous, hating me stink eyes and the song he was singing was probably making me turn three shades of red. Oh God, the _song_.

I'd never heard it before, and that didn't matter. It was graphic. "I wanna see you come in the middle of the dance floor." Now, I can usually feel the stinging, tingling pricks of a blush, the tickle as all of the capillaries just under the surface of my skin filling with blood and coloring my face. But listening to Edward's soft, sexy growls, his voice caressing my ears, making my head fill with the dirt, the naughty, nasty lyrics…

_Move it to the right, move your finger to the left_

Since my eyes were trained on him the entire time, I know he never looked my way once. Maybe he was… no, he wouldn't be embarrassed. "Work that clit, come girl"? No. But I was still sort of reeling about the conversation we'd had earlier in the day.

Somewhere between a chorus of "come girl"s and "I'm tryin' to see your pussy wet"s and his cocky grin and dangerously seductive voice… I realized I had a bit of a crush on my piano teacher.

And I could admit it- it had been a while since I'd had a thing for any guy.

The revelation hit me hard and swift, like when someone startles you by turning on a bright, white light.

_This changes everything_.

I didn't know what to do.

Me. Smart, slightly awkward, and totally mouthy Bella Swan, had a crush on a man. A hot, dirty-talkin', piano-playin' walking contradiction of a man.

I felt like an idiot for not noticing it before. Attraction is one thing. But this…

The song ended to whooping of the female variety and James, not to be outdone, immediately started up with a L'il Kim song I vaguely remembered from ages ago. I sneaked a glance at Edward, who was now surrounded by women, and the stab of jealous, irate rage nearly knocked the wind out of me. _Get away from him!_ I stood there, not knowing what to do.

"You okay?" An amused Garrett was at my elbow, patting my shoulder sympathetically. "Our Eddie. What a romantic." I turned to look at him and I must've had some kind of dumb expression on my face because he continued with, "Oh, my. You don't look so well. What's the matter, sugar plum? The word 'clitoris' a little too much for you?" He led me to a chair and I wanted to protest, to stand on my own; to run and to leave and to find Edward or maybe slap him and then kiss him.

"Look alive, Bella. Here comes Mr. Foul Mouth now." Oh, shit.

"Garrett, I-"

"Be yourself, Bella. That's obviously what the man likes." Garrett was amused. So glad to entertain. With a quick kiss to my hair, he disappeared-

-Leaving me face-to-face with Edward.

"So, how'd I do?" he said, all smirk and bravado. Ten minutes ago, that would have annoyed me. Now, of course, I found it endearing. Ugh.

"Eh," I said, inspecting my fingernails. "You're all talk."

"All… talk?" His brow furrowed in disapproval, but his eyes… they were darker, more challenging. He leaned in and poked my shoulder, his face mere inches from mine. "That really was the filthiest song I know. I save it for special occasions."

"You calling me special?" I huffed. He threw his head back in delight.

"You're a rarity, that's for sure."

"Thanks. I think." I was proud of myself for not acting like a doting schoolgirl. If I recalled correctly, this crush business was hairy work.

"Eddieeeeee," a familiar whine called out. I raised an eyebrow as the silky (did she wax her arm hair?) arms of a Tanya wrapped around Edward's waist. "You are a naughty boy. I have a request." She leaned into his ear and whispered, and maybe I was imagining it, but he pulled away from her grasp and a bit closer to me.

"Sure, Tanya," he laughed. He put a hand on my arm before turning to go. "I'll catch you later." Then he put an arm around the delighted Tanya who gave me an ugly and triumphant look before turning away. I watched the two of them disappear into the crowd and with a slow shake of my head, I left the bar, anxious to get home and ponder this new turn of events.

**A few things-**

**The "dirtiest fucking song you know" is "Play" by David Banner, song recommended to me by jennnnnnnnday. Thank you, doll.**

**I promise, this will be updated again this week. Check with adifferentforest; I'll most likely update there first because I want you all to check our website out! **

**Thank you so much for sticking with me. I do love you for it. 3**


	13. Chapter 13

**wow, thank you for sticking with me! toldja i'd update again soon. this one's a shorty (and updated over at a different forest already, i'm just sayin'), but the next one's on deck. thank you so much to everyone who reviewed, it really does mean a lot that you guys are still with me.**

**dedicated to my jandco, the riley to my bree tanner. and special thanks to ADarnell- you know why.**

I am a coward. It's official.

I could not sleep after getting home. All of the usual tricks didn't work- counting to a thousand, TV, internet- it was like my brain refused to let me do anything but think about sexy piano players with green eyes and confusing demeanors. And the word "clit".

Sometime around 4am, I got up, disgusted with myself. I got into the shower, sort of hoping that the water would wash away all traces of the piano bar off of me, but after I realized that I had been washing my stomach for God-knows-how-long while imagining Edward's long fingers arched over a flaming keyboard, I decided something needed to be done.

But first, I called Renee. Of course, she was absurdly awake. Like she knew I needed the pep talk.

"What's wrong, Bella?" Her voice was chipper and I heard metal clanging on metal.

"How'd you know it was me?" I told myself I only sounded irritated because I'd had no sleep, but I knew deep down that it was because she was doing the mom thing, that intuitive, I-know-my-baby's-upset deal that I hated because, well- it was true.

"Who else would be calling me at 5am on a Sunday?" she asked, her voice full of laughter. The clanging continued, and I had to bite back the urge to ask what hobby of the month it was this time.

Clang, clang. "Ah, crap." Clang. Not gonna bite. Not gonna bite.

"So, how's your fella? Did you make out yet?" Clang.

"Yeah, Mom. That's kind of why I'm calling."

"Ooh. Juicy details, or stifling disappointment?"

"The latter, Mom." I had to close my eyes and pray to whomever for patience. Come on, Mom. Make me feel better like you always do.

"Mm. Lemme guess- still haven't talked, eh?"

"No, we did."

"About?"

"He- he took me to a record store and bought me some vinyl. Told me about his Dad. Told me he liked me," I finished softly. He had said that, hadn't he? Maybe it was just 5am, but I couldn't seem to remember anymore.

"Interesting." A clanging resounded followed by a beautiful string of curses. "Sorry. Pans everywhere."

"Mom. How many times have I told you not to cook without supervision?" I asked, irritated and fond all at the same time.

"No! It's candy, this is different. Shit!"

"Candy? Do you even have a candy thermometer?"

"What do I need a thermometer for? Ouch." This was getting stupid.

"Mom. Mom. What about Edward?" I was tired; I was exasperated. Please, Mommy. Help me solve my problems.

"Edward? I thought his name was James."

"What? No, James is the other piano guy."

"Ohh, the greasy one, right? Fratboy date rapist type?"

"Yeah. He's harmless, Mom. He just-"

"Who's hotter, Edward or James?"

"Edward, Ma. Definitely Edward.

"Of course. Describe him for me."

"What? Mom, what does that-"

"Bella. I'm your mother. I need to gauge how much you like him before I can dispense advice. And hearing (clang clang) about him from your mouth will help. So spill. What's he look like again?"

"Green eyes."

"Mm hmm."

"Kind of… reddish-auburn hair. Looks perpetually mussed. I think he does it on purpose."

"Of course he does."

"He does this thing when he's judging you- he's very judgmental- where he's like, sizing you up and checking you out and smirking the entire time."

"Sexy."

"No, it's annoying. He- his piano, Mom. He's been playing forever, and it shows. Like, it's effortless. He barely needs sheet music. And he can play anything. Absolutely anything."

"Sings too, right?"

"Mm hmm. Mom, his voice. He's like a cross between Lindsay Buckingham and Prince and Tom Waits."

"Bella- that turns me on."

"Me too, Ma. God, when he sings, it's like there are guitar strings running up and down my body, and he's plucking them one by one." Good metaphor, Bella.

"So what you're saying is… you want him to pluck you."

"Shut up and let me finish. He's arrogant, Mom. Like, seriously arrogant. It's that 'I'm hot and rich and talented' thing. And it wouldn't be so bad if it weren't for that smirk! But you know, there are these moments when he's himself- like, when he talks about his brother or his Dad- and oh, does he ever have daddy issues. I think he hates that I drink. And he's insulting when I'm playing the piano and just- I dunno, Mom. I think I'm either bipolar or I just need to sleep with him to get him out of my system."

"Higgenbotham women are not bipolar, Bella. We're free-spirited. Listen, you've got it bad."

"Excuse me?"

"Bella. What was the kiss like?"

"Wha- it was good, Ma."

"Not great?"

"Okay, great. He- he's a good kisser."

"A guy like that would almost have to be."

"Right? I don't know, this sounds cheesy, but like- I could tell he was restraining himself, and if that was restraint- shit, Mom."

"Sex would be unbelievable."

"My thoughts exactly."

"The heavens would part. Angels would sing."

"Right."

"Hallelujah would start playing."

"The Buckley version, yes."

"Your world would be rocked."

"Okay, Mom."

"Your eyes would roll so far-"

"Mom. Enough."

"Sorry!" she cheerfully said. A new round of clangs filled my ears. "Okay, so you need a good boning. What's the hold-up?" She may have sounded distracted, but I knew a shark when I was bleeding in the water. It's why I called her in the first place. Like it or not, this was my mother's true skill, and if she could profit from it, she'd be a millionaire. Professional Shit-situation Assessor and Dispenser of Sound Advice.

"He's… Mom, we're total opposites. He's pretty and rich and and and he has baggage, Ma."

"So?"

"So I don't know that I can be with a guy who's obviously so much better than I am and knows it. I don't even know that I can sleep with him." I cringed, the words slipping out without my realizing just how true they were until that moment. Thank you, Mom. I see I'm still as insecure as I was the first day of junior high.

"Idiot."

"What?"

"You're an idiot, Bella. You're so blind to yourself, it's almost embarrassing. I'm not even going to dignify that with a lecture on how great you are. Look at it this way- he's interested in you, right?"

"I think so. But what about-"

"But nothin'. A guy and a girl like each other. He's got hang-ups, she's got issues. Hello, the Human Condition. You've got to try, Bell. It's just chicken shit if you don't. I mean, what're you afraid of, exactly?"

A good question. I thought a moment or two before softly saying, "Getting hurt, Ma."

"Yes, well. There is always that. But honey-" She sighed and I heard the flick of a lighter followed by a deep inhale, "-you'll never know unless you try. It doesn't work? Hey, at least you made a go of it. You are a good person. Obviously, he sees that. Now go and be a _brave_ person, Bella. Make a move."

I laughed. "And what would you consider to be a brave move?"

"Ask him out."

I laughed again. "Mom-"

"It's the twentieth century, Bella. Girls do that. I know I did with Phil."

"Twenty-first, Mom."

"Semantics. Look, the recipe here says I need a thermometer. I wonder if the store is open?"

"Good luck, Ma. Don't stir too much, it'll turn out too textured."

"And good luck to you, honey. Stir up your pot, Bella. And call me once you've tasted the candy."

I groaned. "Nice, Mom. Bye."

Well. I guess that's that.

**oh, jandco and i are doing a series of oneshot thingies in a story we're calling "songs from a hat" 'cuz like, we're scribbling down suggested songs on post-its and putting them in a hat (or a brown paper lunch bag shhhh), which we then draw at random and write something inspired by the song when the mood strikes. it's up exclusively at a different forest, so if you're registered there, you can read some jandco/wtvoc oneshots. cheers!**


	14. Chapter 14

**to those of you who reviewed that renee wasn't a typical mother, well… my mama isn't, either. and thanks for all them reviews, man. I didn't think people would really review a short (non-filler, goddamn) chapter, so thank you for that.**

**oh yeah- blame patsyrobinson for this not updating sooner. she can take it. plus, it's her birthday! go tweet at her or something.**

My life had become a ridiculous set of patterns since… well, my birthday. I mean, I thrive on a schedule like any other control freak who never gets laid, but it was like there was this goal I was working toward, and putting in the time until I reached that goal was tedious.

I could feel tension mounting. And I wasn't sure if it was because of some inevitable confrontation where I asked him out or if he was going to ask me out or we dissolved into some furious sex on his piano-

Or if it was just the approaching end of my piano lessons with him.

Not to mention my plan to show him up at the bar.

I'd decided to go on with that plan. Yeah, I wanted- well, I didn't know, really. Could I still date the guy while making a fool out of him at his own workplace? Did I want to date him? I couldn't possibly do anything until I'd decided what I wanted. Could I?

Now practicing piano, that I could do. So I decided to go to work. To teach kids Latin root words and how to pull out thematic elements from American short stories. To keep up my secret lessons with James.

To have private lessons with Edward.

That Friday, Esme came to see me in my classroom. I was grading essays when she strolled in with a plate of brownies.

"Hi, Bella," she said cheerfully, and I looked up with a smile, noticing that she had Masen's (and Edward's) same grin. "I haven't really seen much of you. How are the piano lessons coming along?"

"Hey, Esme. They're… progressing." I moved a stack of papers off the chair by my desk and she sat down. "I'm actually getting the hang of it."

"And Edward-?"

"He's… patient. Sometimes." She grinned again and shook her head.

"Look, I know he can be a bit of a perfectionist." I snorted before she continued, apologizing with her eyes. "He's had a rough go of it. Losing his father wasn't easy for any of us."

"He told me," I replied softly. She paused a moment, picking at an invisible thread on her sweater.

"I just- he's at a crossroads, Bella. And I feel like he needs… a steadying influence. He's always been a loner, you know? Cordial and polite, always. But he's never been interested in much beyond his music. But lately- there's been a fire lit inside of him. And I think I know why."

"Esme-" I suddenly felt uncomfortable with this. If she was going to start saying that I was the reason, that I was- what was I, exactly?

"Listen, dear. I'm not going to interfere. You're both grown-ups. Mostly. I just- you're a wonderful person, Bella. Never doubt that. Edward is, too, and I think he doubts it. He only sees the superficial in himself, but- ah, well. I just want you both to be happy. And if you find happiness with each other…" She patted my hand like- well, not like _my_ mother, but like anyone else's. "I'm sorry, I'm being interfering. He asked me to butt out." She smiled softly. "Enjoy the brownies. They're not as good as yours, but Carlisle never complains." She left and I just sat there for a minute, blinking.

Great. They had talked about me. That'll make tomorrow's lesson just a tad awkward.

After a night of tossing and turning, I finally decided to heed Renee's advice with Esme's words of wisdom as backup. I got out of bed super early and sat there, staring dully at my bowl of Cocoa Pebbles.

He'd say yes if I asked him to dinner, right? Or maybe we should go for drinks. Wait. He works in a bar. Coffee? Coffee was nice and non-committal, right? I should make it easy on him.

Wait, he never makes things easy on me. Should I be difficult? Rosalie tells me that I'm difficult. How do I do difficult on purpose?

See, there's a reason I don't ask guys out. I finally decided to just go for it. What did I have to lose? Besides dignity, the ability to look a guy in the face ever again, normal blood pressure…

Hours later, I found myself making my way up his walkway. Onto the porch. Knocking.

"Hey," he said softly, looking ridiculously good as he swung the door open. I mean, the guy probably just rolled out of bed or something. As I walked past him, I could smell the day-old bar smell of booze and cigarette smoke. He really did just roll out of bed, and the sleaze of his work made him smell oddly delicious. Or maybe it was just my hormones, who knows.

I walked over to the piano, feeling really nervous. I went to lean on it and sort of ended up sliding along its freshly polished surface instead, but he reached out and caught me before I caused damage to myself or the wood.

"Why are you so nervous? I'm not going to yell at you today, Bella. Probably," he grinned, sitting down at the bench and patting the seat next to him. Deep breath in, Bella. Relax. You can do this.

I gave him a weak smile and sank onto the seat, my thoughts and emotions all discombobulated. You'd think that my realizing I had the hots for Edward would render me nervous, but I was more numb than anything. I simply didn't know how to act. It was high school all over again- Awkward Bella likes a boy and buries her head in a book whenever he's around, not knowing what to say or do, and saying and doing nothing.

"Bella?" His tone was questioning and I looked up, meeting his eyes, hoping they would spur me to action.

Bad idea. I think I stared too long because he got this concerned look on his face.

"Shall we- continue? I think we were working on tonality last time, let's see what you remember about-"

"You wanna go to dinner sometime?" Crap. So much for numb. I realized I was wincing, so I drew strength from whatever nerve I had and sat up straight, turning so that I faced him.

Stunned. He looked stunned. The guy had dedicated a song about pussies to me, and he had the nerve to look stunned at my dinner invite.

"You mean like a… date?" His voice cracked. It cracked! Man, I should've done this earlier. My nerve grew nerves. I smiled serenely.

"Well, yes."

"Okay." Just like that. He grinned and turned back to the keyboard. "Now, about the arch of your fingers…"

Somehow, an hour passed. No condescension, no snide remarks. On either of our parts. Just… a student and her teacher, having a nice little lesson. I _really_ should've asked him out sooner. He was downright pleasant.

"So, pick me up at what, eight?" I had been standing to leave and I stumbled a bit.

"What, tonight?"

"Well, yeah. Unless you're rescinding that dinner invitation?"

"Of course not!" No. But I wasn't ready yet. I needed at least a week to un-numb and freak out properly, like any good date.

"Well, let's not waste any time." He got this wicked grin on his face, but it was different from his normal arsenal of sexy smiles. This one was… mischievous, and full of promise. Damn, would I ever get used to this guy? I kind of hoped not.

"But don't you have to work tonight? It's Saturday."

"They can do without me for a night or two."

"Two? Where are we going, another state?"

"State, country. Whatever you had planned. What's the plan?"

"I- I don't know. I don't have one?" Shit. I didn't have a plan. Thanks a lot, Renee.

"Bella," he said seriously, a slight furrow appearing between his eyebrows. "Am I the first guy you've asked out?" I might have worried over his expression if he didn't have a dirty little gleam in his eye.

"Okay, yeah, for your information." I wanted to die or maybe just pull an ostrich maneuver and bury my head in the shiny wood floor.

"Good. Eight it is. I'll be waiting to see what you come up with. Now get out of here, I've things to do."

He led me to the door and the next thing I knew, I was packing a week's worth of freak out into a few hour's time.

Xxxxxxx

I had resisted the urge to call in my makeover army generals and decided to dress simply. A few calming breaths that didn't work and I dove haphazardly into my closet, trying unsuccessfully to recall every style tip that Alice and Rose had ever forced on me, managing to only remember that white pants are never acceptable because that means you take it up the butt (Who decides these things, anyway?).

I finally decided to just be me- I mean, he liked me, right?- and I put on some good jeans and some fifty dollar black t-shirt that Alice made me buy ages ago. I hated to admit it, but fifty dollar tees really were better than the trusty 2-for-$10 Old Navy deals. Black cardigan ("Always wear layers"- aha! Another style tip!) to finish it off. Mascara, because it was a date. Trusty black Jack Purcells. I was ready a full three hours early.

I spent the extra time filling up my cake dome with cookies. Baking is just about the only thing I can do to take my mind off of stuff. I was pulling out batch number two when my phone rang.

"Darling," came Garrett's Madonna-fake accent.

"Oh, hey. Hold on." Of course he'd call. He probably had radar for this sort of thing. I set the pan on the counter and whipped my oven mitts off, amazed at my ability to keep my phone between my ear and shoulder. "What's up? How are you?"

Garrett sighed deeply. "Terrible, Darling. Work is going to be simply _awful_ tonight." Uh oh.

"Oh, really?" I tried to affect nonchalance, but I doubted it was working.

"Yes. It seems our dear Edward has contracted some sort of illness."

"Oh. Gosh, that's too bad."

"Hmm, yes. We'll be short-staffed tonight."

"Mm."

"I do hear Bella-itis is going around."

"Garrett-" I could practically see him studying his fingernails as he called me out from wherever it was he lived.

"No, no. I understand. The unattainable sex-on-a-stick piano God has finally succumbed to your simple, yet considerable, charms."

"Garrett-"

"Kudos, my dear. Now, tell me. How did he ask you? Did he fix you with a sexy, _penetrating_ stare? Did he take your hand and make you swoon? Or was it more like he played a steamy, delicious version of Beethoven's _Pathetique_ and make sex eyes at you during your lesson? Come, give Uncle Garr-Garr the juicy details."

"I, uh." I swallowed hard. "_I _asked _him_ out."

There was a moment of silence that lasted about a bajillion years.

"Garr?"

"Really." I was mildly offended that he sounded amused.

"Really really."

"My dear, that is _fabulous_."

I laughed at that one. "Fabulous?"

"Yes, Bella. Fabulous. I succumb to trite, overused gay terms from time to time. My, my. What a startling turn of events."

"Is it really that surprising that I'd ask him out?"

"Honestly, yes. Katie and I had a back-up plan in case _he_ never asked _you_."

"I don't even want to know." I felt good, suddenly. It's ridiculous how much Garrett's approval meant, but it made me feel very, very secure.

"No, you definitely do not want to know. So. Where are we going?"

"I thought I'd keep it simple. There's this sushi place I like, and I thought-"

"Oh, so he likes it raw, hmm?"

Crap. I ignored the innuendo (because honestly, if I addressed every one, I'd be late) but then a stab of panic constricted my chest.

"I- I don't know. Oh God, I don't know!"

"Calm down. I'm sure he likes it raw."

"Stop saying that. Maybe I should… go Italian?"

"No, God no. Italian is overdone. Don't change your plan. So Isabella is in charge of the date. Hmm, I like it."

"I'm glad you approve," I said testily, calming down from my mini-hyperventilation episode and moving on to enjoyment of Garrett's reaction. I turned around and flipped the oven off. Three batches would be too much, even for me.

"Me, too. Well done, Girlie. Well, I must to be going in early. Seeing that we're down a man tonight."

"Sorry about that, Garrett. Really."

"Don't you dare apologize, Isabella. I'm very glad. Seriously," he said, his voice softening. "I think this is going to go well for you."

"I sure hope so." That constriction in my chest turned left and up, transforming into butterflies in my stomach and up my throat.

"Okay, you. Have fun. And call me with lurid details including specific measurements, techniques, and-"

"Bye, Garrett."

"Ta!" he said cheerfully, and hung up.

I grinned and stared at my phone for a sec, then set about cleaning up the kitchen.

I got to his place at exactly eight o'clock. Actually, I got there fifteen minutes early, but I drove around the block several times, not wanting to get there early and appear overeager or something equally lame.

I focused on my breath as I walked up the familiar pathway- the place seemed really different at night; more approachable, somehow. I noticed that all of the lights were on, the windows glowing and lighting the outside with an inviting warmth.

I raised my hand to knock and the door opened, my arm suspended awkwardly as I took in Edward standing there, looking... Damn. How does he make jeans and a button-up look so good? I was amazed modeling agencies weren't knocking down his door. He hadn't shaved and he was all scruffy- the kind of stubble that makes your skin tingle in anticipation of your palms rubbing up against it.

I felt a slight blush as the corner of his mouth turned up, somehow sure he could read my thoughts.

"Hey," I breathed for lack of anything better to say.

"Hey yourself. Punctual. I was sure you'd be late." His very typical Edward comment wasn't said with his typical sarcasm- he was smiling too much for it to be a true insult. With a surge of hope, I realized it might be a good night, after all.

"So, where are we headed?" We were walking to my car, he a half-step behind me as I tried to push my nerves away.

"Oh, this um. Sushi?" I hope I hope.

"Man, sushi sounds good right now."

"Right?" So far, so good.

We got to my car and I went to unlock the passenger side, opening the door and sweeping my arm out. With a bemused grin, he sat down. I closed the door for him and made my way to the driver's side, feeling a little silly, but hey. I had asked him out, right? Women's lib and all that.

"What's this?" he asked as I buckled up. I smiled, a little embarrassed.

"I, uh. Baked today. Peanut butter cookies. You aren't allergic, are you?" God, what if he was allergic?

"No, thank God. They smell amazing." He opened the Ziploc and reached in, so I smacked his hand.

"You'll spoil your dinner."

"Yes, Ma'am." I went to start the car and he reached in again, stuffing the peanut butter cup in his mouth before I could slap him again.

"Holy shit. They're still warm." I tried not to look, but really. Why bake if you can't enjoy the look of ecstasy on a guy's face when he bites down into your cookie?

And Edward certainly didn't disappoint. His eyelid were lowered as he chewed slowly, savoring the flavor. I could practically taste it with him. He licked the corners of his mouth and I watched his tongue peek out over his bottom lip.

"I mean, wow. I need another one."

"No way." I grabbed the bag and tossed it over my shoulder.

" Cookie tease."

"Shut up," I said, grinning broadly. This was a side of him I hadn't seen before. Playful in a non-"I'm trying to embarrass you with sexual innuendo" kind of way.

"Yes, Ma'am."

"And stop calling me 'Ma'am'."

"Sorry. Ms. Swan."

"Ugh." Who was I kidding. I was enjoying myself. And him.

I drove the short distance to the restaurant, letting Edward take control of the radio and criticizing his choice of station and laughing at his annoyed face. Finally, we pulled into the parking lot and got out of the car. It wasn't like you see on TV- lines of people crowding to get in and us soaring on through to our table with a smart nod from the maitre d'. Not LA. The lot was kind of full and there was a wait, but I had made reservations like any paranoid planner who asked boys out would. We were seated and a cute waitress came over instantly, taking our drink orders. She wasn't hitting on Edward, but she was directing her niceties at him. I could give her that. I mean, look at the guy.

"Tea, please." She walked away and I turned to Edward, noticing an expectant look on his face.

"Tell me about your family."

It was so- unexpectedly date-like. I searched for hidden meaning and chided myself. What was a date but a way to get to know someone? So, I told him about Renee, and Charlie. Phil and baseball, Charlie's gruff-but-loveable demeanor, Renee's advice hidden in her weird hobbies and hippie outlook on life.

And he told me a little about himself. School, his father's love for music. His love for his brother. Esme and Carlisle. It was… normal. Nice.

I ordered a couple pieces of sashimi, he got some sushi. As our plates arrived, he dumped a massive amount of wasabi in the little soy dipping cup and grinned.

"I like it hot."

"I bet." I was relaxed, content. I'm at my flirty best when I stop obsessing over hidden meanings and arming myself with sarcasm. "So, the bar. Garrett called me."

"Did he, now?" Edward picked up a piece of shrimp and soaked it in soy sauce, pausing to give me an amused smirk before wrapping his lips around the food. I gulped and turned my attention to my own plate.

"Yeah. He seemed to think that you're sick."

Edward coughed weakly into his hand and I laughed.

"Bella-itis, I believe he called it." That earned a hearty laugh as he dove into his food again.

"Swollen Bella, huh? That Garrett. Such a way with words." I may have blushed, but I was genuinely enjoying myself too much to think about it.

"Yeah." I leaned in and whispered, "I think he's onto you."

He leaned in, too, returning with, "Onto both of us, you mean." We sat there for a moment, leaning and staring and grinning and stupid. Man, I've got it bad. Did he have it bad, too? I couldn't exactly tell.

"So, do you often date your students?"

"Define 'often'," he said casually, and I flipped a piece of ginger I had chopsticked at him. He plucked it off his plate with his fingers and ate it. "Most of my students are like, twelve."

"Moms, then."

"Nah." He studied his food for a moment before continuing. "I don't really date much, actually."

"Me, neither. I'm boring. What's your excuse?"

"Too picky."

"Really. You don't seem all that discerning to me." That may have come off more accusatory than I meant, so I said, "I mean, Tanya's… typical."

"Typical?"

"Yeah, you know. Tall, blonde, buxom."

"Buxom?"

"Yeah, you know. Big-breasted." Oh, God. Shut up, Bella.

"I know what 'buxom' means, Bella."

"I bet you do."

"Hey. If I wanted Chesty LaRue, I'd be out with Chesty LaRue."

"Oh, so now I have small tits?" I said that way louder than I had meant to, but hell. The look on his face was worth the stink eye I got from Judgmental Old Lady over at the table next to ours.

"No," he said quietly after gathering his wits. "Your tits are perfect."

"Um, thanks?" I said, suddenly wanting to die. Dammit, he always had to one-up me.

"No. Thank _you_," he said, pointing at my chest with his chopsticks. I just shook my head and chuckled.

All in all, I'd have called dinner a success.

We somehow managed to spend two hours at the restaurant, ordering our sushi piece by piece, talking about anything and nothing, covering the minutiae of our daily existences and his seriously pretentious choices in music. We decided to take a walk in the brisk night air, and I know I for one was not ready to call the date over.

"Come on, seriously? The Bee Gees? I am judging you for enjoying disco," he was saying. We were in some small area of town I'd never been in. The shops were closed yet still inviting us in with pleasant store fronts and signs proclaiming "Sale!"

"Stop it. _Saturday Night Fever_ is _classic_. Andy Gibb is _classic_."

"Andy wasn't in the Bee Gees."

"Ah _ha_! Gotcha! You have Bee Gees knowledge."

"There's a lot of useless knowledge in this head, Bella. I bet you know _Grease_ by heart."

"Hell yeah, I do. I'm female."

"That shit is just stupid."

"Edward Cullen. I am calling this date off right now if you continue to disrespect Danny Zuko."

"I always thought Kenickie was cooler."

"He was hot, too. Hey! You know _Grease_, you liar."

"I never said I didn't. And it's job-related."

"Uh huh. Get much call for _Greased Lightning_ at the bar, do you?"

"_Summer Lovin'_, mostly."

I started to sing it out loud and he stopped, looking at me. But I was feeling brave, and I kept on singing, not all that surprised when he joined me. He even _totally_ did the thing Travolta does at the end, pointing his finger up and singing along with me on the last "ni-hiiiiiiiiight".

"I can't believe it," I laughed after trying to catch my breath. "A closet _Grease_ fan. Don't make me mad, or I'm telling Garrett. He's desperate for you to be gay."

"Just because I know show tunes doesn't make me gay. I told you, job-related."

"That's true. But I'm telling him all the same."

"He's not my type. Too tall. I like 'em shorter than me."

"Oh yeah?" I turned and faced him, a little surprised to find him so close. "I'm way shorter than you."

"I know," he said softly, looking down into my face. And like that, he kissed me, and I kissed him back. Nothing insistent, just nice.

He pulled away. "Come on." He grabbed my hand.

"Where are we going?"

"You'll see." I allowed him to bring me back to the car, stumbling behind him and laughing while trying to keep up. Most of the cars in the parking lot were gone at that point; I had no idea what time it was. He held his hand out to me. "Keys."

I held them to my chest. "Nuh uh. This is _my_ date."

"Our date. What else did you have planned?"

Furious making out followed by sex on your piano? "I don't know yet."

"Well, I do. Hand 'em over."

"No."

"Bella," he said, exasperated. He wrapped his palms around my ribcage and _tickled_ me. And I let out this seriously girly squeal and wriggled, giving him the opportunity to snatch the keys from my fingers.

"Ha!" He unlocked the passenger's side and swept the door open in a copy of my earlier gesture. "After you." With an irritated scowl, I got in. He pulled his phone out before getting in on the driver's side and all I heard as he stepped in was, "Okay. Thanks, man." He smiled with satisfaction and put the key in the ignition.

"What was that all about?"

"You'll see."

I got the thrilling sensation that the night was taking an unexpected twist. I was giddy with anticipation.

**giddy giddy giddy**

**oh, and I dedicate this to jandco's brother and his angry clam.**

**And cathmarchr, who is bones fandom and has never read **_**twilight**_**, but is still kind enough to review this story and harass me about updating bones stories. :D love you longtime, lady…**


	15. Chapter 15

**hiya. enjoy, this one's… yeah. for my jandco and daisy fuentes. and matt pinfield, of course.**

I don't know how long the car ride was and I didn't pay attention to landmarks to see if I could figure out where we were headed. All I knew was that as soon as he pulled out of the parking lot, something changed inside that vehicle.

Edward had turned on the radio to a classic rock station and was drumming his thumbs on the steering wheel, singing along to the Doors.

"We get this one as a request from time to time," he said to the windshield. It was that "Whiskey Bar" song.

"Hmm." I could feel an electric sparkle in the air, and since I didn't know what it meant, I decided to remain silent. Best to keep your mouth shut in situations like that, right? Look at me, I'm learning.

He continued singing softly; he had leant the car seat back and had one arm lazily draped on the window sill, air flowing through the car through the opened window and ruffling his messy hair. I had never seen him so relaxed, so… not intense. It was unsettling, but I think in a good way. _What did it mean_?

I disregarded my previous stance on silence. Oh, well. It was fun while it lasted.

"Can I ask you something?" He leaned over to turn the volume off.

"Shoot."

"Why… why did you agree to come out with me tonight?"

I cringed inwardly while he paused, seeming to give my dumb question some serious thought. Finally, he spoke.

"I like you, Bella. I told you that." He seemed amused by my confused expression.

"Yeah, but… I dunno. You seemed to like, disapprove of me or something. At least in the beginning?" His jaw clenched and at first I thought that I had ruined the whole night, but he took a deep breath and answered.

"Bella," he began, and faltered. The usually glib Edward seemed… unsure? "It has recently been pointed out to me that I am somewhat… judgmental." Oh, Esme. Or maybe Garrett.

"And condescending."

"Yeah."

"And arrogant."

"Yes." He was smiling now.

"Egotistical."

"Right. Why did you ask me out again?"

"Because you're very, very pretty." He threw his head back and laughed, and I was insanely pleased with myself. He got serious again, and I waited, holding my breath like his next words would either make my night or send me into a huge, fat depression.

"I'm not easy. I know this. Most people kind of… stop trying with me. But you? I don't know. You're as stubborn as I am. Maybe more so."

"So we're here because we're both stubborn?"

"No, not that. It's just…most girls who go for me seem to be looking for some sort of project. But I don't get that from you."

"Yeah, no. I'm not interested in changing anyone."

"I see that. That's why we're here, on a date."

"So what you're saying is… I'm easy? That I won't challenge you?" That was unexpectedly truthful.

"I can't tell if you're _easy_," he teased, waggling his eyebrows. I rolled my eyes at him and he smiled. "No, I have no doubt you'll challenge me. That's what I'm saying. You seem to have a fairly accurate bullshit detector. And I like that."

"And you shovel it on pretty thick, from what I've seen." That got me a huge grin.

"Yep. But I think you can handle it."

"Me, too."

"I also think you've got a bangin' body, if that helps answer your question."

"Ass."

"You're welcome." He grinned and rested his arm on the console between us.

"Is there… is there something about me that bothers you?" Man, I really didn't want to know the answer to that one, but I felt like I had to ask. There was still doubt, I guess. I mean, seriously? Just looking at him sitting there, driving my car, looking every inch like a woman's ideal of what a man should look like made me wonder how it was that I'd kissed him more than once.

He screwed up his face for a moment before answering. "I was too quick to judge. Like always. I thought you were just one of those girls who drank the weekend away and slept around. You know, like ninety percent of the patrons at the bar. I… take issue with alcoholics, whether they've been to meetings or not."

"Because of your dad."

"Right."

"I'm not an alcoholic, Edward. I don't really drink all that much." Man, is that why he was so weird in the beginning? It was like the proverbial light bulb went off above my head. I had been wasted and I had crawled on his piano like Tawny Kitaen and let a stranger smack my ass and ended up naked in his bed. Jesus.

"I know that now. I think I always knew, I just…" He trailed off and his hand went to his hair, scratching and messing it up.

"You just what?"

"I saw the truth, eventually. Esme told me that I have a tendency to see what I want to see, and only when I thought something was worth it would I make any sort of effort." He shrugged, and the gesture seemed to lessen the brief tension in his body. "I guess I figured out that you're worth it."

Wow.

Just… wow.

I leaned over and was jerked back by the seat belt. Laughing at myself, I unbuckled it and leaned over once again, scooting up a bit so that my face was even with Edward's. He turned to look at me and I gently grasped his chin in my palm, turning his head forward.

"Eyes on the road." I crossed the inches of distance between us and lightly kissed the stubble on his jaw. "And thanks. I think you're worth it, too. So I guess we're here for the same reason." I sat back and re-buckled, feeling an unfamiliar sense of accomplishment and peace.

He drove on for a few minutes more, the silence comforting, soothing. I was watching him drive, seeing the outside glow of street lights and the occasional passing car draw shadows across his handsome face.

"Can I tell you something?" he asked without his eyes leaving the road. The car was slowing as he spoke, pulling into an all-too-familiar parking lot that was oddly empty.

"Shoot."

He looked over at me while turning the engine off. "You're a terrible piano player." And with a wolfish grin, he took the keys out of the ignition and got out of the car.

I chuckled and shook my head. Seriously, would I ever get used to him? I really hoped not.

I glanced at the dashboard clock. It was a little after midnight on a Saturday, but _Singin' in the Rain_ seemed closed for the night. The lot was empty, and the neon sign was turned off.

Edward came around to my side of the car but I opened the door before he could touch the handle. "It's still supposed to be my date, remember?"

"Our date," he corrected, taking my hand and pulling me to standing. I stumbled out, my ankle twisting on some loose gravel and he caught me, taking the opportunity to pull me up against his body. I knew a move when I saw one, but I wanted it. God helped me, I wanted it.

We stood there, my face at his chest, breathing heavily. His arms were warm and steady around me. Edward always smelled so _amazing_.

He tilted my face up with one long finger and I looked at him, his hair backlit by the parking lot lights, his eyes shadowy and dark. He seemed about to say something and I was suddenly uncertain, blurting out the first thing that came to mind.

"Why's the bar closed?"

He scowled or maybe just looked disappointed but he stepped back, still holding my hand. He turned and started walking toward the side of the building, pulling me with him, our feet crunching the gravel underneath.

"When we're down a man, we close early," he said over his shoulder. We got to the alley around back (oh God that kiss and the heat it seemed like so long ago) and he fished into the inner pocket of his jacket, pulling out a set of keys on a plain key ring. He fit one into the "employees only" door and clicked it open. "They shut down a half hour ago."

"And you know that because…" I followed him into the dark, my eyes adjusting to the faint glow of lights from behind the bar that were left on. It seemed really big without the surging crowd and accompanying noise, bigger than it should be. Our footsteps echoed as we stepped in. He tossed the keys on an empty table and stepped over to the closest piano.

"Garrett was giving me constant texts about how hard it was without me tonight," he said, feigning a pained look. "Poor guy, having James all to himself."

"And they cleaned up that fast?" I stood in one spot, trying to figure him out- and trying to figure out what we were doing there. I mean, this was where we had first met. Where we had so many missteps and odd (sexy) interactions. Was he being symbolic? Or maybe I was reading into things too much? Hey, he had Grease-related job stuff, I had looking-for-meaning-in-everything-Lit-major job stuff.

"Surprisingly, it doesn't take that long. And maybe people left when they saw I wasn't here." I had to laugh at his smug look. I think he may have actually been serious about that one.

"You really are arrogant."

"Bar receipts don't lie, Bella." He smirked and then sat down at the piano bench, patting the spot right next to him.

I eyed him warily and carefully picked my way over, not wanting to trip on some unremembered step in the dark. When I got to him, I put my foot on the bench and one hand on the piano. Using the top of his head for support with my other hand, I stepped up and sat on the smooth, black surface, turning so that my feet dangled on the side. Bracing my arms behind me and leaning back, I said seriously, "Are you taking requests, Mr. Piano Man?"

He chuckled and shook his head. "Nope." He opened the keyboard cover and ran his fingers up and down the keys a few times, gazing off into the distance, seeming to consider something silently. I was going to ask the always-girly "what're you thinking?" when he opened his mouth and began to sing.

"Once there was a way to get back homeward," he began, and my eyes shut of their own volition, his scotch-smooth voice bathing me in a tingle of light. "Sleep, pretty darling, do not cry, and I will sing a lullaby." It was my favorite Beatles tune. Leave it to him to know that.

It was all so… amazing. His soft voice, rasping in all the right places, the gentle vibrating thrum of the piano beneath me, making my nerve endings buzz, making my body feel naked, like my skin was rubbing against supple, soft fur. I was lulled, I was melting; I felt like I could almost fall asleep in the warm embrace of his voice and his music and his sound. Almost.

The song ended and everything was still, the last few notes reverberating through the air, adding a sense of lazy anticipation. I kept my eyes shut. What would he play next?

I heard the creak of wood as he moved, heard rather than felt him stand over me. I was breathing heavily, my chest rising and falling, rising and falling. I could feel a sort of painful tingling in my wrists where all of my weight was braced, but I didn't dare move- like if I shifted, the spellbinding moment would break, and the night would be over.

I sensed when he moved again, could feel the swish of air and the coldness left by his void. I was reluctantly starting to sit up when I felt his hands at my waist, jerking me up, the surprise of it nearly knocking the wind out of me. My eyes flew open and there he was, his face inches from mine, the faint light from the bar making his eyes glow with a deep golden intensity.

And then his mouth was on mine, kissing, bruising, unlike the other kisses from before. I was trying to keep up with him, trying to match his pace, but he was always ahead of me, his lips wrapping around mine, his tongue brushing everywhere and nowhere all at once.

I reached up with my arms, his embrace holding me steady as I put my palms on the back of his neck, running my fingers through his hair and grasping hard, my nails scraping his scalp. He finally let up on assaulting my mouth, hissing through his teeth, looking at me with both fury and apology.

And desire. God, the desire.

"Sorry," he whispered, his voice rugged. "Couldn't help myself."

"Forgive you," I whispered back, trying not to breathe too hard. We stared at each other for what seemed like hours and I watched the intensity fade from his eyes.

He began to stand up fully, looking sheepish, gently taking a hold of my wrists and drawing them from his hair. He held them between us and pulled me upright. "Been wanting to do that all night."

I considered this a moment, feeling my pulse race again as I came to a decision.

"Do it again."

The corner of his mouth lifted and I caught a glimpse of his teeth before he leaned in again, but this time I was ready. His lips pressed to mine and I met them, moved with them, parted when they parted. Tongue on tongue. Warm and wet and yes. I don't know if I scooted forward or he dragged me over, but suddenly we were flush with each other, chest to chest, my knees on either side of his rib cage.

His arms were around me, hands smoothing down my back purposefully, his thumbs trailing last, flicking my bra clasp through my shirt; down down down, the tips of his fingers playing with the hem, brushing the skin at the small of my back. The contact made me thrust into him, wishing that pianos weren't so high or that Edward were taller so that I'd be feeling him, feeling _him_. And then oh… there he was, he must've been leaning or kneeling or whatever but yeah. I could definitely feel him now.

He reached under my shirt and pulled it off in one clean motion, tossing it behind him while I tried to keep my balance. I tightened my grip on his waist with my legs, wrapping my legs around him and opening them up to accommodate the width of his body. I had to brace my arms behind me again, and his eyes zeroed in on my now shirtless figure. Thank God I had a decent bra on. He was staring at my chest and I had to laugh.

"What is it?" he murmured, not taking his eyes off of my breasts.

"Guys are always rendered dumb by tits. It's silly."

"Yep." He leaned down, an inch or two above the cups of my bra, and he inhaled deeply, a lazy grin curling his lips as I felt the tickle of exhaled breath across my skin. "You smell salty and warm," he said to my chest.

"Mm." I was losing the ability to concentrate. He looked down, studying me, his hair seeming darker, messier. My chest was heaving and it bumped his nose, startling me with the touch.

Rather abruptly, he stood up fully and in the next moment had lifted me off the piano and onto the stage in front of him. I reached out to steady myself, catching his shirt; I pulled up to take it off but he was taller than me by a foot, so he reached behind his head and pulled the shirt off the rest of the way. I leaned in and kissed the middle of his chest, feeling the warmth and his subsequent shiver.

I looked up at him and I'd say it was like I just decided to drop everything and be there in the moment, but I think had been there the entire time. The Bella of yore would probably be freaking out right about now- we were in a bar, for Pete's sake- but I pushed those distant misgivings away and focused on the guy in front of me. Edward. I reached out and put my hand on his jaw; he turned and kissed my palm, then held my wrist with his hand.

"Is this okay?" he whispered, so soft I barely caught it, but I could see in his eyes anyway that he was making sure I was right there with him. And I was.

I nodded and tilted my face toward his, meeting his now gentle lips with a kiss.

And then it wasn't so soft or so gentle. With a swallowed gasp I kissed him harder, faster, more more more. His arms went around my back, mine around his waist. My leg raised, ankle hitching around his thigh. He moved a hand to support my ass, his other hand brushing along my back. A tug, and I felt the heavy shift of my bra falling, the weight of my breasts pulling it down. One-handed bra removal; I wasn't surprised.

Then it was gone, flung, who knew who removed it, skin on skin, tingle of flesh brushing my nipples, hot hot heat, a flash of nerve endings traveling down, muscles clenching, seering convulsions, don't fall, trust he'll hold me up.

Desperate to keep his mouth on me, I moved my hands down slowly, swiping my tongue against his, enjoying the soft growl somewhere in the back of his throat. My fingers brushed the waistband of his jeans and I traced along the edge, swiftly undoing the button and grinning into his mouth when he gasped.

"It'll go faster if we do this ourselves," he said, his voice all husky and full of gravel.

"Yeah," I whispered. I pulled away, my back hitting the piano as I watched him reach for his zipper. Suddenly shy, I turned and stepped away, over toward the piano bench. Taking a few steadying breaths, I reached down and undid my own button and zipper while kicking off my shoes. Deep breath in. Oh man, I couldn't believe this was happening. I bent over slightly, lowering the waistband. Right leg out, then left. I kicked the jeans away and reached out to balance myself, my hand grasping the keyboard with a low, throbbing _clang_.

I was so startled by the noise that I jumped and a second later he was right behind me, the warmth of his body covering me, comforting me. I felt his breath at my shoulder, felt his mouth pressing into my neck, open and soft, a light brush of teeth along my collarbone. One arm covered mine, lifting my hand from the keys while his other arm reached around me, softly cupping one breast. I tilted my head, giving him more room to kiss my neck, my legs losing strength as he softly curled his fingers and gently scraped them across my hardened nipple.

Somewhere to my left he closed the keyboard cover and then brought his hand to my shoulder, lightly trailing down my side, down my ribs, resting on my hip. With his mouth sucking lightly at my throat, he moved his hand from my hip, his fingers dancing over the top of my underwear.

I was gasping now, my breaths shallow, my breasts tingling. His hand went lower, down, tickling, oh God, his body pressing into my back, the hard bulge above my ass, oh God- _deep breath_- I held it forever and ever and then _there_, finger sliding down and over, slick and up, rubbing, my hips rolling with and against the motion, mouth open, gasping and rolling, oh God oh God-

With a low moan, his teeth bit down a little harder, making my eyes snap open and then he was turning me, his hands on mine, clasping our fingers together as he braced us against the piano.

"One sec," he said into my ear, and I was briefly confused when he stepped away. I looked over my shoulder and saw him fumbling with his pants until he produced a gold foil-wrapped—oh.

"You're a real boy scout," I grinned, my throat dry. He smiled back and stood up, coming back to stand behind me. I faced the piano again, my breathing going back to normal, sort of.

Did I really want to do this?

I heard rustling behind me, and then I felt his warmth against me once more.

Yes. Yes I did.

I bent at the waist and propped my hands up on the piano, feeling like I was about to be frisked. I started to inwardly smile at the metaphor but gasped instead as I felt his hand at my neck. He brushed my hair to one side and softly kissed my bare neck. My head dropped and my mouth opened, the noisy, quick breathing creating ephemeral clouds on the smooth, glossy surface of the piano. I tried to calm my racing heart by inhaling deeply, but I let the breath out in another gasp as I felt one finger where he had kissed me, tracing down my spine slowly, creating a shivering tingle of prickly gooseflesh in its wake. Down the dip of my back, full palm resting on my ass, down more, fingertips at the waistband, flicking it down but not off.

He paused and I resisted turning around, instead straightening my back. And then he was there, chest against me, his hot breath at my ear, his hardness nestled above my ass, hands on my hips. I could feel his fingers spreading, grasping, his thumbs under my cheeks, moving inward and then…

And then I shut my eyes as one of his thumbs hooked under the embarrassingly wet crotch of my panties and the other hand- oh God, his other hand-

"Oh," I whispered. And "yes." My elbows buckled and I leaned forward, my breasts on the somehow warm surface of the piano top, my ass thrusting out, giving him room, inviting him, please, please please please.

"Please. Now," I said, my voice louder than I meant but hell, I wasn't in control of my actions.

With one hand still holding my hip and the other still holding my underwear, he walked forward and I could feel his legs against mine, his skin hot and _oh_. _Jesus_.

His dick pressed against me, and I opened my stance a bit, feeling the slide of it, slick and a little sticky in that weird latex-y way. Oh God. I stuck my ass out a little higher and he hissed and just like that he was _oh_.

_God_. In. And out. I pressed my chest forward and got up on my tippy toes and _yes_. All the way in. Gees, it was so intrusive and full and good. So good. So so so good. More and faster and _good_.

His hand at my waist grasping, pinching, my body taking it, bracing, holding on as he just went at it, oh God oh God "Oh God" the flutter, the sweet tingle in my abdomen or pelvis or wherever-the-fuck, hot burn and in and out with my hipbones jabbing the piano and don't stop, please don't stop.

He was grunting, he was grasping; he was filling me and out and back in and oh oh oh _oh_.

Ohh.

"Yes," I groaned. Yes. The tingle of pain, almost too much and more and not enough. That's it, right there. Oh, right there. "Right there, Edward. _Yes_." My head bent, forehead on glossy black and then _there_ and _there_ and my neck cracked as I strained with it and "Ah." My eyes popped open and I saw white, saw bright light and tingly stars flashing and crashing and he was there too, all bunched muscles and pulsating rhythms under me and in me, no sound, no silence and then a great exhale of relief, a sudden stilling and then bliss. Just soft bliss. Heart pounding against the piano, elbows cracking as I straightened them, pushing myself up because I suddenly felt the uncomfortable position I had somehow ended up in.

He pulled out and I felt that too-much tingle, laughing uncomfortably but in a good way, slowly trying to stand and failing.

Should I turn around? I didn't know yet. Oh my God. Sex in a bar. In his bar. Yikes. I should've been ashamed, but I totally wasn't. I wasn't much of anything except, you know. Good to go. Oh, if my mother could see me now. Metaphorically speaking, of course.

Edward came up and kissed my shoulder. "Be right back." Out of the corner of my eye I saw him pick up his clothes and I finally turned around. He was headed to the bathroom, and he bent over at one point to pick something up, tossing it my way. My bra. I grinned and put the thing on. Oh my God. What would he say when he got back?

I gathered the rest of my stuff, goose bumps rippling across my entire body. I ran to the ladies' room. Looking in the mirror, I kind of grinned goofily, congratulating myself on breaking a very long dry spell as I stepped into my pants.

"I just had sex with Edward Cullen," I laughed to my own reflection.

"Yeah you did." I spun around to face the now dressed and unfairly even sexier than before Edward. It occurred to me that if I had seen him in this post-coital glow stage before tonight that I would've jumped on him way before this. His lips were swollen, his body all loose as he leaned against the door frame. His hair was ridiculous. Had I done that?

"Edward," I said, pulling my shirt on. "This is the ladies' room!"

"Yep. You didn't take your socks off."

"Well, it was cold in there."

"So I noticed," he said wryly, his eyes on my tits again.

"Stop looking at me like you've seen me naked," I said, my defiant tone belied by the dopey grin I knew I was wearing.

"No." He stepped closer, inches away. I couldn't help it, I started breathing heavy again. Dammit, would the affect of his proximity ever wear off? Probably not.

He took my hands and turned them over, bringing each to his lips and kissing the insides of my wrists. "Thanks, Bella."

"Welcome. You, too." I didn't know what else to say. Or do.

"Anytime." He grinned then, and I kissed that sexy smile for what I knew would not be the last time.

"So… what happens next?" Damn. I bit my lip. Me and my dumb girl questions.

"Next? I say we find your shoes and go take a nap." He put his arm around me and we started walking out of the restroom.

"Okay." And then what? "Hey, Edward?"

"Mm?"

"Let's not do it in the bar again."

"'Kay."

"But…"

"But?"

Oh, just say it. "Pianos are okay."

He threw his head back, and I grinned. If I could keep him laughing like this, then I think that maybe, just maybe… this would all work out after all.

**maybe, maybe.**

**i updated this over at a different forest a few days ago, js js**


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